


Pet Human

by Ace_Of_Spades_2014



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Canon Divergence, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Resolved Sexual Tension, Season/Series 12, Slow Burn, SubDean, domcas, leash, topCas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-28 00:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 39,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10820229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ace_Of_Spades_2014/pseuds/Ace_Of_Spades_2014
Summary: Ishim isn't quite as critical of Cas as he is in the show, but he just as arrogant and has no idea about love actually means. Thinking his brother is misguided and that the humans he has allowed in his life take him for granted, he decides to help Castiel out, but not in anyway that Castiel would ever have appreciated...or does he? No longer will anyone consider Castiel Dean's pet angel, but rather, Dean as Castiel's pet human.





	1. Human Weakness

“I am sorry about what I said earlier Brother,” Ishim stated as Castiel tended to his wounds. The older angel grimaced at the pain in his side, not used to healing from another angel’s grace. 

“What do you mean Brother?” Castiel asked with gravel in his tone. Ishim suspected this was a unique trait that his brother brought upon the vessel, for the woman he had once taken as a vessel had a similar gravel to his speech. The angel that healed him tried to sound indifferent to the brother that had insulted him, not just to his face with cruel facts brought back to the surface, but also in front of the friends he continually tried to prove himself to. Ishim knew his brother, though, and could sense the apprehension behind the question. He wanted the earlier insults to be erased, to be given atonement for the sins he had committed, but not trusting enough anymore to believe that was Ishim had in store for him. 

Taking in another gasp of air at the sting of Castiel’s grace sewing his skin back together, Ishim explained, “I realize know that you, yourself are not the troubling angel that Heaven has sent you out to be.” Castiel still did not let much of emotions betray him, but he did allow Ishim to continue. “I see now that you are still as much as a warrior as you were back then, and that you still hold a piece of devotion for your brothers and sisters.”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed, “I do. What I have done, I have done because I thought it the best for Heaven and Earth.”

There was so much sincerity in Castiel’s voice, so much so that it was allowing his real voice to seep through that Ishim couldn’t understand how any other angel could ever believe Castiel to be lying about such things. Obviously the young Seraph had good intentions, and truly hadn’t meant to cause the damage done. Ishim thought about the Castiel he remembered, how, despite being one of the younger angels, had quickly risen to the ranks of leading his own garrison. It was his devotion to God and to his celestial family that had pushed Castiel to be one of the best Seraphs of Heaven. His younger brother had certainly been the best aspect of Ishim’s garrison, and though he had been proud for his brother’s promotion, the loss of such a good and loyal soldier had been hard at the time.

When he had heard the angels’ lament over Castiel’s first betrayal, Ishim could hardly believe it. How could Castiel, the epitome of what it meant to be an angel, choose the humans over his own brothers and sisters. Then, throughout the years, each story about Castiel’s faults and betrayals became worse and more unforgiving. By the time Ishim had met Castiel in the diner, it had been his resentment of his brother, not just betraying the rest of Heaven, but essentially leaving everything he and Ishim and the recast of their garrison had once stood for behind. It was anger and hurt, as human as those may have been, that had led Ishim to act the way he had during that initial meeting. 

Now, though, Ishim was seeing Castiel for the angel he had become. Not the betrayer that Heaven had painted him as, not the sinful creature that would destroy all that cross his path, but rather a simply misguided angel that had only ever wanted to do good. 

Castiel finished the healing process, and seconds later Ishim felt better than he had in years. Castiel, on the other hand, seemed to slump forward, having drained too much of himself and not able to recharge as much as he once had been able to with the full force of Heaven behind him. 

Ishim stood and stretched, enjoying the way his vessel felt and the way his own grace surged within him. Castiel then took his place on the couch, groaning at Ishim’s energy. The older angel looked down with a smirk on his vessel’s lips. “Thank you Brother. Truly, I appreciate it. Now,” he stretched again, too full of life and grace to stay still, “I’m going to help you.”

At this, a drained Castiel looked up with a practiced, raised eyebrow. “What matters right now is dealing with the woman.”

Ishim shook his head. “I can deal with her.” With a renewed energy about him, he was confident that he could take the human woman. She was, after all, just a human, and she no longer held the same sway over him that she once had. No, Ishim beamed inside, he would be able to finish her off swiftly, and then he could concentrate on helping his good, devoted, poor misguided brother back to the type of angel he had once been. 

“I do not need anything,” Castiel responded weakly. “I do not deserve it. We will take Lily down together, and then I will try my hardest to redeem myself to you.”

Ishim patted Castiel’s head gently, soothing the mussed hair as if the younger angel was nothing but a mere child. “There is no reason for you to redeem yourself. I understand now brother. You were tricked, used. It wasn’t your fault.”

Castiel frowned, not liking the fact that the had fallen prey to such tricks, but he figured it was better than nothing for Ishim to be on his way to forgiving him.

“You were misled. Trust me, Castiel, I understand.” For Ishim too had once been misled, and though he had tried to fix that mistake years ago, it was only now coming to fruition.

“Metatron, he…”

“Not by Metatron. By that human of yours.”

There was a brief moment of silence, that then became disgruntled understanding. “Dean…”

“Dean,” Ishim spat the word out like it was decease, which might as well have been, “has made you weak. He manipulated you. Made you go against your brothers and sisters. Took you for granted. Treated you like a pet.”

“No,” Castiel began to argue, but he was weak and slow, and the door that led into the building had just been pushed open. 

“Ishim!” The unruly hunter came storming in as if he were on some righteous mission, which was all but too ridiculous. He stood face to face with the angel, giving a concerned glance at the horizontal Castiel. “Turns out you were lying about what exactly happened between you and Lily. Care to explain?”

Castiel looked from the hunter to the angel, confused and beginning to understand that he might have once again been tricked to help someone that hadn’t entirely been truthful. Ishim did feel some regret at having lied to his little brother, but there was no way around the lie. Instead, he focused on the detestable hunter, sneering, “I do not have to explain myself to a piece of trash like you.” He could feel the energy of others coming closer, and though he felt confident that he could take Lily, there was something that warned him to hold back a little longer. Sighing, he glanced down at Castiel, “As I said brother, I will help you.”

“Ishim, don’t…”

The warning was drowned out by Ishim’s last remarks to the hunter. “You’re the reason Castiel has fallen, his human weakness.” His smirk grew, and his grace gathered together. “It’s time you give your respect to your betters, boy.”

Before anyone could stop him, Ishim flew away. 

**********

Lily was pissed to say the least. One, the angel that had ruined her life because of an obsession he had of her years ago, ending with him murdering her human daughter, had gotten away without a wound to show for her efforts. She was furious that Cas had healed him, and she had been very close to using her angelic power to take her revenge out on him as well. To make that matter worse, Cas hadn’t stepped away from her threatening steps forward and hadn’t stopped her from reaching for the grace that she had learned to call upon. Instead, he moved closer to her with a heart of repentance and apologized for his part in the damnation of her life. 

“My ignorance does not excuse my behavior,” Cas bowed his head in defeat, “and I will not stop you from exacting your revenge upon me.”

It was the sincerity in the angel before her that made Lily hesitate. But the rage and pain that had been boiling since the death of her child was too strong to ignore, and she was about to do as the angel expected of her. 

Until Dead stepped in front of Cas to shield him from an attack. Hardened green eyes were understanding of her pain, because they also held an abundance of it himself, but there was determination in those eyes as well. “Ishim is the one that took your daughter away from you. And I promise we will help you track Ishim down if you want, but Cas if off limits.”

Lily tried to keep the angry tears at bay. She shook her head furiously, blonde locks slapping her cheeks. “You heard him. He accepts his part in her death! Ignorance is no excuse! He killed my baby! He killed my family!”

“And Cas is our family,” Dean tried to explain before Cas could try to tell Dean that he need not defend him. 

She glared, but there must have been something else in the hunter’s gaze that made her begin to melt. Suddenly appearing smaller, she glanced from the hunter to the angel that he was attempting to shield, and then to the younger brother who was standing off to the side waiting to see when he would be needed. It was clear that while Sam understood her pain, maybe even more than the eldest Winchester did, that he too would stand by the angel’s side. 

“Fine,” she conceded. “I will find Ishim, though,” she promised, staring straight at Cas as she spoke. “And I will kill him.” Haughtily, she turned back to Dean. “And I will do it myself.” 

Dean nodded and grabbed Cas by the elbow to drag him outside to the impala, not giving the woman the chance to change her mind. Lily stared after them as they left, frowning at the sight. 

“You made the right chose,” the younger brother had moved to stand beside her, his voice gentle and soothing. “Back then Cas was a soldier just following orders, and I know that doesn’t make it right, but you have to know that he’s changed. Since that time, he’s disobeyed Heaven numerous of times for the sake of humans.”

She scoffed, not really caring. The power she called upon for grace had long since taken away a majority of her humanity, and it was hard to accept such sentiments. However, she wasn’t so far gone that she couldn’t recognize herself in the hunter that led the angel away to safety, away from her. And no matter how far away from humanity the grace pulled her, she would never allow another human to fall victim to cruelty of the angels and their lack of emotional understanding. 

“Tell your brother to be careful.” She stated steadily. When Sam tightened his expression, she clarified, “Not of me, but of Castiel.”

“Cas isn’t…”

“I don’t care how much you say he has changed since I’ve first met him. Angels can’t reprogram themselves completely. And if there is one thing I have learned of angels through my experiences is that angels are not capable of love.”

“Cas…”

She held up a hand to keep him from interrupting. “I can see the signs in front of me. I had called Ishim down and had learned from him all I could, and I adored him with everything I had. And for a while, I thought we had it all. Devotion. Knowledge. Excitement. Love. But I was wrong. He wasn’t capable of love. He was obsessed.” She shivered from the memory, surprised by the wave of fear that settled in after all these years. “Castiel may no longer be at the mercy of Heaven, but he is still an angel, and obsession is the only thing he is capable of when dealing with a relationship like the one he and Dean seem to have.”

Sam frowned. “You’re wrong. Cas isn’t obsessed with Dean.” He didn’t even bother deny the insinuation that his brother was in love with the angel. “They’re friends. Comrades.”

Lily shook her head and began to step away. “Just watch out for him. I would hate for a similar fate to befall your brother.”

**********

“Cas?” Dean twisted around in the front seat of the impala to peer in concern at Castiel laying on his side in the back. “You going to be okay?”

“Yes. I used too much of my grace when healing Ishim, but I will recharge shortly. I just need to rest for now.”

“Right.” Dean tried to sound like he believed his friend, but the concern was still clear in his expression and the doubt was all but seeping through. 

“Dean,” Cas closed his eyes and breathed slowly, “I’m sorry.”

“About what?” 

“Ishim.”

“That bastard isn’t your fault. Cas, you…” but he didn’t finish what might have turned into a speech, for Cas had fallen asleep. Without much thought to his instinctual actions, Dean reached out a hand to brush a few strands of dark hair back from a clammy forehead. “It’s going to be okay Cas,” he whispered. The apology for being so angry with him earlier because of Billie was at the tip of his tongue, but he figured he owed it to the angel to save it for a time that he could actually hear the apology. “It’s going to be okay.”

Unfortunately for the Winchester, nothing was ever really going to be okay, and Cas had the right to be worry about Ishim. For Ishim had disappeared with the promise to Cas that he would repay him, and Cas feared what that repayment might look like.


	2. Earning a Leash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanting the best for his little, misguided brother, Ishim wants to make sure Cas never gets called Dean Winchester's "pet angel" ever again.

As an angel, Castiel wasn’t meant to need sleep, but in last few years he was finding himself more often needing to go to such limits to regain his energy. When he was human, he hated the prospect of sleeping, for every time he closed his eyes all he could see were falling angels, or the death he had caused while being possessed by the Leviathan, or the death of the Winchesters. Sleeping had been a traumatic thing to deal with as a human, and it had seemed unlikely like that would ever change.. 

When he became an angel again, Cas had hoped that because he no longer needed sleep, the nightmares that had plagued him during the unconscious hours would vanish. It didn’t take long to realize he had figured wrong. Too many things had gone wrong, too many mistakes had been made, and too many emotions had begun to filter through his angel programming. So, even as an angel, he suffered through visions that chilled his grace, and he hated it. Hated that he was too weak to get rid of such thoughts alone, and loathed the fact that it seemed he would always be followed by his worst decisions.

These were the reasons why that, despite having been drained from healing Ishim, Cas was stubborn in doing what needed to be done to recharge. He sat in the back seat of the car, eyes staring blankly at the window, occasionally drifting into a state that he despised so much. From the driver’s seat, Dean cast concerned glances in the rearview mirror. 

**********

An hour later, they reached the hotel and Sam clamoured out, informing his brother that he would get them a room while Dean dealt with things there. Sighing, Dean dragged himself out of the impala and opened the door to the back seat. Cas was so focused on keeping his eyes open and not thinking about Ishim that he barely noticed Dean’s movements.

“Hey,” the hunter grumbled, not harshly or irritably, just tired. “Come on,” he reached out a calloused hand to gently touch Cas’ shoulder. “Sam’s getting us a room.”

Feeling Dean’s warm hand on him, Cas glanced up towards the hunter, his gaze too hazy. Sighing, he slowly climbed out past Dean. 

Frowning, Dean asked unnecessarily, “You okay?”

“I am still drained. That is all.” 

The frown deepened. “Is there anything you could do that could help with that?” Dean always worried about Cas when his grace wasn’t acting properly. He was especially worried now that they were just waiting for cosmic justice to happen, Cas being the most likely target since he was the one to break the Reaper’s deal by killing Billie. 

“No,” Cas answered softly, but with determination. He sounded confident and unperturbed by his current state of being, but Dean had long since learned to read behind the stoic expression and could tell the angel was lying. He knew of a way to recharge quicker, but was reluctant of doing whatever it was.

Before Dean could argue with him and force an answer out, Sam came back with two key cards in hand. “They didn’t have any rooms left with two beds, so I go us two singles. Who’s bunking with who?”

Usually when this happened, though it didn’t occur all that often, Dean protested that he be the one that got his own room, not willing to share a bed with another man, whether that man be his baby brother who he used to sing to sleep or an angel that didn’t require sleep anyways. This time, however, it didn’t even take two beats before Dean was replying, “Cas and I will share a room.” The look he gave Sam cut off any comment that might have been made about his uncharacteristic volunteering.

Cas seemed to understand that nothing needed to be said about Dan’s decision either, because the entire walk up the three flights of stairs to their hotel room was spent in silence. Though, that might have just because Cas couldn’t bring himself to do anything that would require even more energy from him, like talking. 

The second that the door closed Dean rounded on Cas. “What will help you recharge?”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb. Something will help you recharge. Tell me what it is.” Cas stared, narrowing his too blue eyes. For moment, Dean thought they were about to enter another bickering round, which isn’t something he wanted after dealing with Ishim and the consequences of his obsession with Lily. However, Cas didn’t seem to have the energy to even do that, which was a little surprising considering Cas had been acting around him the past few months. “Cas?” He decided to push a little more in a softer tone.

“I will recharge in time.” Came the monotone answer.

“Not good enough. You’re practically dead on your feet.”

“Dead men would not be able to keep standing open their feet. Not unless…”

Dean couldn't help but give a small smile at the response that was so much like his Cas. Then, realizing what he had just said, realized what the problem was. “It means you look tired. You should rest. Sleep.”

“Angels do not require sleep.”

“I’ve seen you sleep as an angel before.” The other times Cas had drained too much of his energy in his efforts to helps others at the cost of sacrificing himself. “Come on,” he took a hold of Cas’ elbow to pull him towards the bed. 

The second his fingers wrapped around Cas’ arm, though, the angel pulled back fiercely. “No. I do not require sleep.”

Dean wanted to argue. He hated when Cas was like this, acting like he was too powerful and too strong to need a little extra help. But with everything that had happened between them, after treating the angel like crap after Cas had done nothing but try and protect him and his family, he couldn’t bring himself to raise his voice. 

Trying to reach for a patience that had long since been buried, Dean breathed deeply. “What do you plan on doing then while I sleep?”

Cas seemed to relax slightly. “I will watch over you.”

This time that small smile threatened to appear on Dean’s chapped lips was ignored. It had been awhile since he had heard Cas say that, and it brought back mostly fond memories. Shaking his head, making sure that the angel wouldn't be able to even detect the desire to smile, Dean responded in his usual manner, “We’ve had this conversation before Cas. You can’t watch me sleep. It’s creepy.”

The angel frowned, but he was still mostly relaxed, if not still looking like he was about to topple over onto the floor. After a short pause, he decided, “I will watch TV.”

“Yea, okay.” Dean shrugged and began getting to get into the bed himself. He was pretty drained too, and unlike Cas, he wasn’t about to deny it. Pulling back the covers, he slid in comfortably. “At least get comfortable.”

Cas looked around the room for a chair, but this was a cheap hotel, and it seemed like even something as small as chair was out of their price range. Blue eyes shifted to the bed. Almost reluctantly, he sat himself at the edge. 

As tired as Dean was, he couldn’t just fall asleep. It had nothing to do with the glare of the TV screen flashing against the walls, because he had gotten used to distractions like that living on the road with his little brother and father, but rather the body that was sitting at his feet. About thirty minutes into their settled positions, Dean suggested, “Cas, why don’t you lean back against the headboard? I’m sure you’d be more comfortable that way.”

The suggestion was appealing to Cas, Dean could see it, but he wasn’t eager to follow through with it for something. The hunter doubted it had to do anything about because close to Dean, because the angel still had no concept of personal space. Whatever it was, though, was keeping Cas from getting the rest that he needed, and it bothered him. 

“I am comfortable as I am.”

“Cas, humor me. Please.”

The sigh that followed the request was exasperated, but Cas did stand from his position on the edge of the bed and placed himself on the other side of Dead with his back against he headboard. “Good night Cas.”

“Good night Dean.”

**********  
Beside him, the Dead was breathing steadily, his chest slowly expanding and then exhaling. As soon as he knew that the hunter was asleep, Cas’ hazy gaze shifted from the TV show to the sleeping form beside him. He wasn’t sure how long he stared at his friend, liking the way that peace seemed to have settled around him in his time of rest, but it was long enough that the drowsiness of Cas’ drained grace became too much. Unintentionally lulling himself with Dean’s breathing, Cas soon drifted to his own realm of sleep.

“Castiel.”

Cas frowned, and wished he could leave, but now that he had succumbed to the desires of his vessel, he was stuck. “I do not wish to speak to you any longer,” he spat.

Ishim came into view, appearing healthier than he had even been in the diner, and it made Cas’ sick to his metaphorical stomach to know it was because of him. Ishim had been able to get away because of him. Once again, Cas had trusted the wrong person and things had gone wrong.

“You think too much brother,” Ishim commented dryly, but with a small lift to his expression. “Relax. I’m not here to harm you. Like I said before, I want to repay you.”

“I want nothing from you.”

“Nonsense. You’ve just been too brainwashed by that human that you no longer know what you want. Let me help you break out of his hold.”

Cas wonders if this was how Ishim had always been and he’d just been too blind by his faith in Heaven to have known. 

Seeing that Cas wasn’t in the mood to listen to reason, or to be thankful for the gift that he seemed to be offering with ‘sincerity’, Ishim practically growled. “Don’t be ungrateful, Castiel,” he scolded. “I am only offering you what you deserve.”

Cas knew what he really deserved was to pay for his transgression, but Dean had proven that he wouldn’t allow for such things to happen. And since Cas couldn't decipher what Ishim truly meant by “what you deserve”, the possibilities weren’t looking too pleasant. Ishim had already shown what he would do under what he thought was love - destroying the heart of the woman he blamed for his weakness - and Cas wasn't looking forward to finding out what he had planned to get rid of Castiel’s weakness.

“Come now, Castiel,” Ishim smiled, catching an unknown energy at whatever thoughts were crossing his mind. “Aren’t you tired of being considered Dean Winchester's Pet Angel? Don’t you think you deserve more respect than that?”

Honesty, no. Since he had taken the soul of Purgatory and destroyed thousands of lives on Heaven and Earth, Cas hadn’t felt he deserved much of anything, especially the respect of the eldest Winchester. Still, the dream induced Cas had to pause at the idea, he didn’t appreciate when others called him out on his supposed useless status. He hated it more that the Winchesters never seemed to deny the claim when such things were said.

As if he could hear this thoughts, which might have been possible in this dream meeting, Ishim smirked. “Dean Winchester,” he spat in disgust, “has no right to call you anything but Master, brother.” Before Cas could argue, he continued smoothly, “I know I said some pretty awful things to you before, but that was before I truly understood what had taken you away from your family, You have been brainwashed by these things, just as I had once been brainwashed by that dreadful woman, and they have become your weakness, just as she had tried to be mine.” At this point, Cas wanted to argue vehemently, just as he had when Ishim had accused this of him the first time around while Sam and Dean at amongst them, but no words let his vessel’s lips. “So I will help you brother. I will take away your human weakness.”

Dread settled within Cas.

Suddenly her was being attacked, hands grabbing his shoulders and shaking him with too much force. His eyes sprung open, and instantly he realized he was back in the hotel room, leaning against the headboard, his head bent awkwardly his unintentional sleeping position. “Dean,” he grasped, trying to understand what had Dean spooked to the extent that he would be treated in such a way. “What happened?”

“What happened?” The hunter was incredulous, his soul screaming at Cas’ grace at full force. Promptly, the hands were off of Cas and something rattled between them. “You tell me!” Calloused hands wrapped around chain links and pushed them angrily into Cas’ face. “What the Hell man?”

The unnatural haze that had followed Cas from his dream induced message from Ishim began to fade, and he realized what he should have noticed the moment his senses had awakened. Chains. Chains that Dean had gathered in his hands that led from the iron clasp of his left wrist to the iron collar that settled around Dean’s neck.

“It appears to be leash,” Cas commented dryly, this thoughts and emotions not matching the blank tone he was allowing to escape. 

Red appeared in Dean’s expression. Nothing but red. Jaw clenched, eyes narrowed darkly, Dean seethed, “A leash?” His breathing pulsated furiously, his body beginning to shake in seemingly contained fury. 

Cas lifted his left wrist to examine the iron that had encircled his skin. His sent his grace to remove it, but as expected, nothing happened. There was too much power in it for Cas to do anything. “Ishim.”

That name managed to turn Dean’s already red fueled expression even redder in his rage. “Ishim? What the hell does this have to do with his Ishim?” His voice was low enough to not wake any of the other guests of the hotel, but the vibration of the question got his fury across just fine. 

“He had said he wanted to repay me for healing him,” Cas stated simply. Inside he was freaking almost as much as Dean, but he couldn’t bring himself to act upon it. Nothing good would come by him displaying exactly what he was thinking. One of them needed to think clearly, and it rarely was ever going to be Dead to do so. 

“And he repaid you by putting me on a leash?! A fucking leash? What the Hell?”

Cas opened his mouth to explain what Ishim had been thinking, but the words dead before they were spoken. Things were bad enough as it were, telling Dean exactly what Ishim had told him in the warehouse and in his dream would only create increased tension and anger. “We need to figure out how to get rid of it.”

“Well duh,” Dean spat with venom, and Cas tried not to take the hunter’s rage personally. “I’m so glad you think so.”

There probably would have been more choice words from Dean, but a knock at the door interrupted them. “Dean? Cas?”

“Great. Just fucking great. What the hell are we supposed to do?”

“Dean?” 

“Well Cas? Any bright ideas?”

“Hey! Guys open the door!”

Though he knew Dean would be further upset by Sam’s appearance, Cas also knew that they needed to get this over with, and he could no longer face Dean’s reactions on his own. Using his grace, Cas unlocked the door. “Come in Sam. But please shut the door quickly behind you.”

The doorknob twisted. “Cas, what the hell? Sam can’t…”

“Woah,” Sam’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of his brother and their angel on the bed in a compromising position. “You know, if you were doing something like this, you didn’t need to invite me in. I mean, not that I’m judging you or anything but really, not something I wanted to know about either of you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day One of being on a leash. Dean's obviously not taking it too well.

After Sam had his fill of laughter, he began to take the situation seriously enough to try to be of some help. “Must be a witch, right?” Sam wondered aloud.

“I hate witches,” Dean grumbled, pressing his face into his pillows, his entire body buried beneath the blankets while Cas sat on top of them, unable to move more than a foot away from the hunter. 

“Pissed anyone off lately?” 

“Screw you,” came the muted, gravel reply. 

“Hey, just trying to figure out who we might need to investigate to solve this.” 

“It wasn’t a witch.”

“How do you figure, Cas?”

“Because if it was a witch’s curse, I could easily break out of it.” He held the same type of confidence the Winchesters remembered from the early days. Lately, the no-nonsense, “I’m an angel, you dick”, attitude was far in between. It had been hard for the angel to too highly of himself as of late. 

“Yea, well, you haven’t exactly been at full power recently,” Sam winced at Dean’s snark, irritated that his brother couldn’t be more sensitive. 

The deep blue eyes of the angel glared down at the bundle at his side, and Sam knew that if Dean had been aware of the stare, he’d be shrinking back. “I may not be at full power,” Cas replied heatedly, and yet with so much ice, “but it’s still more power than a mere witch could be capable of, and certainly more powerful than you.” 

Dean only scoffed. “Then what do you think it is?” Sam asked. He had noticed that since regaining control of his vessel from Lucifer, Cas was more susceptible to anger and annoyance, and he wasn’t looking forward to Dean causing the angel to lose his temper at the moment. 

There was a pause, that Sam was sure that meant Cas knew at least something, but then the angel replied in monotone. “I do not know.”

“Thanks buddy,” Dean grumbled once again. “Real helpful.”

“Like you’re being?” Sam retorted. A part of him did feel a little bad for his brother to be on a leash like some pet, but a larger part was simply irritated. “Look,” he stood from the chair near the bed, “I’m going to do some research, and pay for another day. Then, when it gets dark, we’ll head back to the bunker.” He began to make his way to the door, but paused as his hand gripped around the knob, “Please behave until then.”

Minutes passed after Sam left the room with neither of them moving or speaking. The atmosphere was tense. Too tense for Castiel, who had enough of being on the edge of his nerves. For six weeks he had felt useless and miserable without knowing where the Winchesters were, blaming himself for their disappearances. Then, when he had finally had them in his sights, with Dean less than an inch away from him in the car, Billy had informed them that one of the Winchesters had to die. And of course, if given his way, that Winchester would have been Dean. If it were to be anyone but Dean, then the hunter would have been as good as dead anyways. So Cas did the only thing he could think of. He killed Billie, and for that he had spent the last few days in a hostile disagreement with Dean. It was all too much for Cas to handle, especially after having Lucifer’s mind waging war against his own, that the encounter with Isham had left him too drained to do anything. 

“Dean,” he tried to speak to the hunter gently, “do you wish to watch TV?” 

The hunter huffed, and Cas could barely make out a shrug beneath the blankets. Trying not to sigh in exasperation and make things worse between them, Cas reached for the remote with his left hand. For hours they just sat there, Cas watching some mundane Lifetime movie and Dean insistent that his place was hiding. At on point Sam snuck in quietly to deposit food for them.

Upon realizing that Dean had fallen asleep, Sam set the bag of burgers on the bedside table next to Cas. “I know you don’t eat, but just in case, I bought you some.” 

“Thank you.”

Sam stayed there for a moment, looking at the tired angel. “How are you holdin up?”

“I am not the one on a leash,” he answered in his graveled, monotone. For the past couple of hours that he had been stuck here, he had tried to keep that in perspective. As much as he would have liked to be doing something else, to not have a chain around his wrist, he had no room to complain. Dean was the one in the unfavorable situation, and Cas would try to remember that.

“Yea, but you are tied to my brother. That’s got to be a headache.”

A small lift of soft lips appeared, but Cas said nothing. “Thank you for the food Sam. You should go before Dean wakes up again. He will not approve of being seen like this any longer than need be.”

“Right.” Sam sighed. “Cas, you know, if you ever need to talk to someone, to vent, you can come to me.”

Cas cocked an eyebrow. “I certainly can’t do that in this situation,”

“I mean, with everything that’s happened, I know how hard it must be,” he tried not to mention Lucifer directly, but Cas knew that was where Sam’s thoughts were leading him. “And I know it’s not always easy being able to process something as painful as that with Dean around. He’s got a way of repressing everything, and seems to think those around him should do the same.”

Speaking of Dean, he was twitching at the angel’s side, close to watching himself up. “Thank you Sam. I appreciate the offer.” He gave his gratitude in a way that left no room to say anything more, and Sam dutifully left to do more research. 

Hours later, the sun was just beginning to set and Dean began to shuffle restlessly. The hunter had been awake for awhile now, but, upon realizing that the leash hadn’t been a horrible nightmare, pretended to still be asleep. Cas allowed him to keep the illusion. But now that Dean was tossing and turning, it was clear that even the hunter was done trying to lie to himself.

“Did you sleep well?”

“About as well as could be,” Dean grumbled, sitting up. He rubbed his neck, both out of embarrassment and from his skin being irritable from the chain that was around it. Cas ignored the jostle of chains against his wrist.

“Are you in any pain? I am sure I could still alleviate any aches you are feeling.”

For a moment Cas thought Dean would agree, but then he scoffed and said it was nothing. Best save the angel mojo for when they actually needed it. 

“Sam come by yet with any news on how this happened?” 

“No.” 

There must have been something in the angel’s voice that alerted Dean that something was amiss. He stared intently at Cas, trying to read between the stoic expression. Suspicion clear in his own gravel tone, Dean questioned, “You come up with any bright ideas while doing nothing?” The accusation was clear too.

Cas wanted to point out that he couldn’t have possibly been doing anything during the day with being tied to Dean as much as Dean was tied to him, but he refrained from getting on the hunter’s nerves any more than what he already was. 

Dean shook his head, again rattling the chain that was linked to Cas’ wrist. “Damnit Cas. You know what this is, don’t you? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I am not certain that I know what caused.”

“But you’re pretty damned certain.” Green eyes were hard and narrowed, and Cas, though he wasn’t looking straight rather than at his friend, could feel the heated stare. When Cas still didn’t speak, Dean’s anger rose even higher and he practically growled. “Well, what do you think?”

“Ishim.” The answer was said softly.

Despite giving Dean what he had wanted - answers - he was still in a rage. Sometimes it frustrated Cas that he could never seem to appease Dean and calm him down. “Why would Ishim,” he spat the word like it was a curse, “put a leash on me?”

Now this Cas really didn’t want to explain to Dean, because he knew for a fact that it would only enrage him further. So he stared ahead and ignored the furious green eyes.

“Cas!”

“Before you came in, he said he wanted to help me.” The words came out slowly and cautiously.

“And putting me on a leash was his idea of helping you?” Cas didn’t reply, didn’t move. His frozen state fueled the flames of Dean’s anger. “Cas! Why would Ishim think this would be helping you? What did you say to him?”

“I said nothing to him,” Cas denied, hurt and a little bit peeved that Dean would think it was something that Cas had said that would give Ishim the idea to do this. Dean stared, waiting impatiently for him to continue. Sighing dramatically for Dean’s sake, Cas recounted his conversation with Ishim, word for word. 

At the end Dean was as frozen as the angel. The anger seemed to have stifled for the moment to give room for surprise and hurt, but it didn’t last long. “Pet? I treat you like a pet?!”

“From Ishim’s point of view.” Cas clarified, though to be honest that was the point of view many had. How many times had Cas heard himself be called the Winchester’s pet angel or something akin to a pet, like an attack dog? Crowley. Balthazar. Rowena. Cain. Mick. And almost every brother and sister he had encountered since denying the Host for the brothers’ mission. 

Thankfully, Dean didn’t seem to have the need to question any further, or to take his frustration out on Cas, and he quieted down as he turned his attention to the drama that was now playing. Cas knew that Dean was still furious, but could also tell that his rage was now being split in different directions. For one, he now had an actual source to direct his revenge against once they found a way to get of the chains. Two, probably still mad at Cas for whatever the angel had done to irritate the hunter so perpetually. And, as always, Dean himself. The green-eyed hunter was nothing if not as self-loathing as he was temperamental, if not more so.

They spent the rest of the evening in silence, much like the first part of the day, with Dean consistently twitching or pulling at the leash. Cas tried to ignore him as best as possible, but it was getting hard to keep his own agitation at bay. A few years ago, staying in the same spot doing nothing wouldn’t have bothered the angel at all. In fact, he had spent many nights during the apocalypse standing guard over the eldest Winchester, never once wavering from his stance. However, since having his grace drained, mutated by Leviathan souls, becoming human, taking upon another angel’s grace, having Lucifer possess his vessel...Cas hadn’t been able to maintain all of his angelic posturing. Staying still was no longer something that Cas could do so easily. 

Finally, Sam came back into the room, his own bags packed. Grumbling, Dean tried to rearrange his coat to hide the leash around his neck. Then, because there was no way to hide the chain that linked Dean’s neck to Cas’ wrist, the two had to stand hand in hand as they walked to the impala as if they were a couple. The night shift worker smiled as she saw them pass. 

The parking lot as empty, which Dean counted as a small blessing. He dropped Cas’ hand and tried to get as much distance as the leash would allow. “What the hell are you doing Sam?”

Sam stared at him pointedly. “Driving. Get in the back seat with Cas.”

The angel could tell that Dean was about to argue, but Cas was getting tired as was, and didn’t think he could put up with any more of Dean’s arguments. Appearing as if simply obeying Sam’s command, Cas got into the back seat of the car, forcing Dean to follow. 

“Didn't have to tug on the leash,” Dean muttered as Sam tried to his hide his smile in the rear view mirror. 

“I apologize. I didn’t think much about the leash. I was simply sitting in the same place I always do.”

“Whatever.” Dean crossed his arms across his chest, and glared out the window.


	4. 04 Irritation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are back at the bunker, but that doesn't meant that Dean's any less irritated about the situation, and like always, he's taking that irritation out on those around him.

Castiel had hoped that Dean would have calmed down about the issue at least a little once they were safely inside the bunker, but the change of scenery had little effect on the hunter’s attitude.

The reasons for the Dean’s harsh attitude towards the angel who had had no control over what Ishim did, was as complex as the hunter himself. The first reason was simple enough. He was embarrassed. Tough guy, macho-man, kill anything that even looks at him funny, had no place being chained to the wrist of what looked like a holy tax accountant. Everytime he moved, he felt the tug of the chain at his neck, cruelly reminding him that he was linked to a nearly immovable force. It was painful to acknowledge that he couldn’t do anything without Cas’ approval. That fact that his little brother observed the two of them with an expression mixed with pity and hilarity only made it worse. 

Another reason was because of the connotative meaning of the leash itself: that he was Cas’ pet. He adored the angel almost as much as he did his brother, and would do anything for him. The angel was his best friend. It was no secret that he was the best thing that had ever happened to Dean, and Dean knew he didn’t always show that sentiment the way he should. But that didn’t mean he would willingly disgrace himself like this. The adoration and respect he held for Cas had no way a connection to the relationship between a master and its pet. 

Which led into the next problem of having a leash around his neck. Apparently Ishim had done this because he wanted to make things up to Cas. Cas’ asshole brother thought Cas deserved more from the hunter that had brought the human-like angel into the folds of his own family. And what did Ishim decide was the best course of action? To make Dean feel a semblance of what Cas had been feeling the past couple of years. Dean wanted to deny it, but in the silence that he had ensued after Cas’ comment made him think of all the times someone had made a bad joke about his relationship to the angel. He certainly couldn’t get out of his mind that times that someone had insinuated that he was taking advantage of the already breaking angel. 

So the way he was acting now that he was safely in the bunker, away from the judgmental and misunderstanding eyes, was born from all the messy emotions that Dean usually tried very hard to repress. Just because he was chained to the guy, didn’t keep Dean from doing so now. 

“Don’t be a jerk,” Sam scolded when Dean had grabbed a hold of the chain the connected him and Cas to tug on it roughly to get the angel to understand that he wanted to go to the kitchen. 

“Bitch” was the only response the older brother gave.

He went straight to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer, popped it open, and chugged it. Cas watched, unamused. There may have even been a hint of irritation in usually understanding, blue eyes. Still, despite the disapproval that was clear in his demeanor, Cas said nothing. Once the first beer was drained in almost record time, Dean reached for another one and began to head back into the dining room. As he moved more than a foot away, though, he was choked back. 

“What the hell man?”

“I apologize,” but Dean was could hear the insincerity of the words. “I was grabbing one as well.” As an afterthought he added, “I thought you were going to offer me one, but you didn’t.” The accusation was clear, though his voice gave no hint to be upset at Dean’s thoughtlessness. 

Dean scoffed, but didn’t say anything else against the angel and waited for him to slowly grab a beer and together. The simple comment had sort of rubbed the hunter the wrong way, irritated with himself for being so selfish. He knew, despite the way he was acting, that Cas wasn’t at fault here, and he also knew that he shouldn't be taking it out on the angel. Still, Dean’s irritation was too strong and he couldn't’ bring himself to apologize and act like everything was hunky-dory. 

Side by side, they went back to where Sam was waiting with his arms crossed, which only led to the further frustration of the hunter, who had tried to calm himself on the walk from the kitchen back to the dining room. “Stop staring,” Dean demanded. Sam shook his head in exasperation. Giving Cas a sympathetic look, he pushed himself up from his chair and retired to his room. 

It was minutes of silence and drinking before Cas asked gently, “Are you tired Dean?”

“No.” He couldn’t seem to get the graveled edge out of his voice, and though he wasn’t necessarily angry, anger was the only emotion he was willing to express for the most part. Trying to be a little more personable, he added as a grumble, “Don’t think I could sleep if I tried since I slept most of the day.”

“I see. You seemed more peaceful when you were asleep.”

Cas might not have meant it the way it sounded. Dean knew Cas well enough that his blunt honesty wasn’t intended to be rude or judgemental; it was simply Cas being Cas. That didn’t stop Dean from becoming indignant. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means that you seemed more more peaceful when you were asleep.” Cas sighed. “I understand that you are upset about the circumstances that we have found ourselves in, but…”

 

“Damn right I’m upset!” Dean slammed his nearly empty beer on the table and tried to stand up to emphasize his point, but because Cas was still sitting he was forced to stay seated. “I’m wearing a freakin’ leash that I can’t freakin’ get off of me, and it’s freakin’ chained to your wrist.”

Which was unfair, Dean knew, but he couldn't’ stop himself.The fact was that it was Cas that had the chain around his wrist, and Dean who had it around his neck. It was Dean, not Cas, who was at the end of the leash and being viewed as the pet. Just thinking about it made Dean’s blood boil even more. 

“And you’re acting like it doesn’t bother you at all.” Cas tried to explain himself, wanting to say that it did bother him. He just didn’t see the logic in acting out so childishly, but Dean was quick to continue his rant, not allowing Cas the opportunity to defend himself against the illogical accusations. “What? Are you enjoying this?” Again, Cas tried to speak, but Dean raged on. “Do you agree with Ishim? Do you think I deserve to be your pet?”

“Of course I don’t!” Cas shouted. 

“What the hell Dean?” Sam had come by into the room, having heard Dean’s yelling down the hall. Dean glared at the angel, but when the angel glared back just as intensely, it became too much and Dean backed down. “What’s wrong with you?” His brother was staring at him incredulously. “You….”

“It’s alright Sam,” Cas cut the younger Winchester off. “This is between Dean and me.”

Sam glanced from his brother to Cas and back again, trying to gauge the tension between them, afraid that Dean would continue to be temperamental and take his irritation out on the blameless angel. “You sure?” He looked to his friend for a response, not caring at all for the moment, his brother’s opinion. 

“Yea, Sammy. It’s between us.” Dean sighed loudly anyways with Cas giving a small nod of confirmation. This time when he stood, he made sure to do it slowly so Cas would understand immediately what he wanted to do and the chain between them hardly presented an obstacle for him at all. “Think I’m going to hit the hay,” and he began to make his way down the hall with Cas following as far back as the chain would allow.

When Dean got to his room and slammed the door as macho as possible with someone slipping in after him, Cas stared intently and questionably. “I thought you said you didn’t think you could sleep.”

Dean’s fingers ran through his blonde hair in frustration. He eyed the bed, but he stopped himself from moving closer to it because of the thought of what would be following after him. A part of him thought about pulling the chair from the desk to the side of the bed, but it was quickly pushed aside. Despite his own irritation, Dean wouldn’t do something that childish to Cas. They had spent the night in the same bed before, last night being proof, but with the leash the prospect of doing so now made Dean feel uncomfortable. 

Still, just standing tensely in his room was getting awkward, and he compromised by sitting on the edge of the bed, his face buried exasperatingly in his calloused hands. Cas loomed over him, the chains running down Dean’s arms and touching his thighs until it reached Cas’ wirst. “Would you at least take a seat? You’re creeping me out.”

“I don’t mean to ‘creep’ you out.” Dean hated the way the chains rattled as Cas brought up his hands to perform air quotes. And he hated even more that this leash was ruining one of Cas’ more adorable traits that usually made him smile. Thankfully, though, the angel did sit down a good foot away from Dean on the edge of the bed. After a moment of another bout of uncomfortable silence between them, Cas commented, “I know this is difficult for you, but you have to know that I don’t enjoy it. I would never want you to be put into a situation where you are uncomfortable or in pain. Ishim thought he was helping, because he was comparing our connection to what he thought he had with Lily, but he was wrong. What he felt for her was obsession, not… not what he have. He has no idea what our profond bond means. He…”

“It’s okay Cas,” Dean’s voice had finally lowered and had that soft tint to it that came when the hunter was being a good brother or best friend. His face was still buried in his hands. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go off on you like that. It’s just….” He couldn’t find the words to fit the raging emotions that he had always been so adamant to hide. “I’m sorry okay.”

Cas nodded. “I accept your apology.” 

Then they were back to their uncomfortable silence, too tense to move and too irritated to speak. Finally, having calmed down enough to be civil, Dean had had enough. “This is ridiculous.” Cas looked like he was about to apology for that, even though it wasn’t his fault, but Dean rushed on. “We can at least act like we’re still us.” The angel was kind enough to not point out that it was Dean that had kept them from acting like they usually did with one another when there were no trouble afoot. “Come on,” He slowly stood and Cas obeyed his movements. The hunter grabbed the laptop from his desk and led Cas to the front of the bed. Slowly, he maneuvered himself so that he was leaning against the headboard, allowing Cas the room to do the same. “What would you like to watch?”


	5. Just a Normal Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the unwanted leash, Dean and Cas try to behave as if it were a normal day. However, nothing normal can ever last with the Winchesters.

To give Dean credit, he did try to be less of a jerk the following day. It helped that the tension between him and Cas had been almost non-existent in their three hour marathon of Dr. Sexy, and that he had slept better than he had in months. Cas was doing better that day too, feeling hopeful that things between the two of them would be civil for at least the time being. His good mood probably had to do with the fact that the hunter had unintentionally fallen asleep on the angel’s shoulder, and, as dreams overtook him, had snuggled closer throughout the early morning. When it was nearing noon, Cas gently removed his friend from his side, knowing Dean wouldn’t approve of their close position, but smiling inwardly at the fact that he had happened. So, as the two made their way to the kitchen, they were both in higher spirits than they had in quite some time. 

They stood in the middle of the kitchen for awhile, Cas waiting for Dean to make the decision of what they would do next. Finally, Dean seemed to decide that would cook a late breakfast, and only hoped that Cas wouldn’t slow him down. 

“What are you doing?” Sam was in the doorway minutes later, brought down by the smell of eggs. Dean was at the stove with Cas standing close by practically pouting. 

“Cooking. What does it look like I’m doing?” At least Dean’s tone was as harsh as it had been the day before. 

“And you Cas?”

“Watching.”

Sam tried to keep from smiling, but it was a difficult thing to do. He was about to make a joke about the situation, but held himself from doing so. It was enough that the two were behaving. He didn’t want to upset Dean’s fragile emotional balance by saying something that would set him off. 

As he left, Dean turned to the angel, spatula in hand. “You bored or something?” Cas stared, his head tilted slightly. “You sounded bored.” 

He didn’t respond. Being bored was such a human thing, and though Cas certainly felt it now, he didn’t like admitting that he had such human inclinations. It was one thing to accept the parts of humanity that included understanding the real meaning of family and the value of friendship and love. But it was something else to accept the more mundane aspects of humanity as something that he had been to take upon. 

Dean leaned back to see if they were being watched, then sighed softly before handing the spatula to his friend. “Here. You want to finish the omelets?” Cas readily took the kitchen tool and waited for instruction. “Be careful when flipping half the egg over so that everything stays between it, okay.” The angel nodded as if he were given an important task and set to follow through with what he was told. 

While Cas finished watching and maintaining their omelets, Dean reached carefully for the plates. He watched in amusement as Cas proudly dispensed the omelets he had been left in charge of onto the plates that the hunter offered. The chain at Cas’ wrist rattled and Cas had to gather up the loose links together so they didn’t interfere with the transfer of food, but with that exception Dean found the experience to be pleasant. One of Dean’s favorite things to do, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, was to cook. It was a nice change to share something he loved to do that didn’t involve hunting in the slightest with one of his favorite beings. 

At the dining table Sam gushed over his breakfast. “This is amazing Dean.” Despite the many times Dean had cooked since they had made the bunker their home, he still had to gull to act surprise every time Dean made something different. 

“I helped,” Cas stated almost childishly, wearing the same goofy grin he had when he had informed them that he was going to be a hunter. 

The look on Sam’s face was of understanding of how the preparation had actually gone, but he was too amused at the angel’s pride too question how much he had actually helped rather than just flipping over the omelet once it was already prepared. “Well great job,” Sam thanked between a mouthful. He swallowed and teased, “much better than Dean’s.”

Dean was too busy stuffing his own mouth to respond. 

After breakfast all three of them retired to the library to do research to see if there was something in the old books that might deactivate an angel’s curse. Cas had tried to tell them that what Ishim had done wasn’t a curse, for the curses that witches performed could easily be broken if one had the knowledge. As an angel, Cas had little clue on how to reverse an angel’s manifestation of grace, and doubted that the Men of Letters, no matter how informed they had been, would have something on angels that he didn’t know instinctively. However, with no other leads at the moment on how to fix what had occurred, the Winchesters stubbornly researched for hours. 

For the first hour it was going fairly well with Sam and Dean doing most of the reading and Cas trying to review information through his mental storage, but when Dean gave him a sidelong glance Cas knew that he was expected to help research as well. So he took one of the books that Sam had gathered that had even the slightly bit of information on angels, and began to skim through the pages quickly. Unfortunately, as he flicked through the book with his right hand, the leash that connect his hand to Dean’s neck gave a gentle tug and the hunter gave a low huff at the action. Wanting to be considerate of what he was going through, Cas tried to lessen the movement of the leash, but even the slightly swipe of his wrist sent the chains rattling softly, vibrating gently against Dean’s neck. Thankfully, and surprisingly, Dean didn’t say anything against it or do anything about it. Instead, his muscles tensed and he tried even harder to become lost in the pages he was deciphering. 

“Is any of this even accurate?” Dean asked almost four hours in, leaning his chin into his left palm. A few feet away, sitting on one of the cushioned chairs they had brought in, Sam stopped his own reading to listen to the answer. 

Cas wasn’t sure what Dean had been reading for him to ask that, but the angel responded, “Though there are gaps in the knowledge that is presented in these books, most of what the Men of Letters have gathered seems accurate enough.” Green eyes glanced down seeming to reread whatever was on the page, a frown appearing on his chapped lips. “What is it that you think is inaccurate?”

“Nothing.” The hunter shut the book and tossed it into the done pile. He placed his hands against the table, signaling to Cas that he was about to stand, and the two moved in sync. “This is getting us nowhere. I think I need a break.”

Sam nodded. “I’m just going to read a little more then. Some of this is really interesting.” 

“Yea, yea,” Dean muttered as he slowly walked out of the library, leading Cas without the chance of being tugged backwards, “Nerd.”

“What would you rather do?”

“I kind of want to work on the cars in the garage, but I’m not sure how well that’ll turn out.”

“I will do my best to not get in the way,” the angel promised. He knew that working on cars, especially his beloved classic models, had a calming effect on the hunter, and wished to keep the easy atmosphere between them.

Dean looked skeptical, but he gave in and the two headed to the garage where Dean showed Cas where all the tools were and what they were generally used for. The following two hours amongst the cars were much better than being in the library, Cas thought. For one, they were speaking to one another again, not lost in thinking and reading. Two, Cas always enjoyed watching Dean doing something he loved. There was so much passion and devotion in the gentle ways that Dean treated even the cars that weren’t technically his. It was in these simple moments that Cas could clearly see Dean’s soul shine its brightest. And the greatest reason Cas was glad that they had moved to work on the cars was because of the interaction he was able to have with his human. 

Though Cas had little interest in cars himself, it warmed him inside when Dean began to explain every little step of his process to him. He explained what the tools were called, what the parts of the car were called and what the did, and how to properly maintain it. Cas’ favorite part, though, was when Dean became comfortable enough to begin telling him stories about why cars seemed to have such an important place in his sentimentality. 

“It was one of the few things that Dad taught me that had nothing to do about hunting, you know?” Dean was finishing one of his stories about a time his father had taught a six year Dean how to drive. 

Cas nodded in understanding at the emotion that Dean was trying to hide. John Winchester loved his sons, but he had failed to successfully show that love. Most of what John had done had left his boys damaged, especially his oldest, who still had troubles accepting that not everything was his responsibility and that the only thing he was good for was being a soldier. Cars, though, unlike almost everything else in Dean’s life, brought only good memories of his father. 

Suddenly Dean smiled, a new thought encroaching upon him. “Who know who else would have loved these cars?” Cas gazed at his friend in adoration. “Bobby.” There was a soft note of nostalgia and Cas felt the desire to wrap his arms around the hunter. He had seen many humans comfort one another in similar situations, and knew from personal experience how much a hug could warm the insides of a person. It was illogical and not something an angel understood for its basest form, but he had been on earth long enough to just know that physical touch was one of the greatest forms of comfort. 

Unfortunately, he also knew that an unexpected hug would not appreciated. Or, maybe it would be, but Dean wouldn’t allow himself to show it. So, Cas held himself back, not wanting to be pushed away. 

“I am sure you’re right,” he said instead. 

Time moved on, Dean continuing to talk about the cars that he had taken in as his own, reminiscing about those who had shared his love of cars but were no longer with him. Despite the edge of sadness that had crept over Dean, Cas could also sense the peace about the hunter that was very rare. 

“Hey,” Sam was standing in the doorway of the garage, “I’m going out to pick up food. Want anything specific.”

“Nah, whatever’s fine,” Dean shrugged. “Just no rabbit food, Sammy.”

“Yea, yea. I’ll be back shortly.” He turned to leave.

Dean looked to his greasy hands and turned to Cas. “Guess we should get cleaned up, huh?” The angel nodded, and allowed the hunter to step in front of him once again to follow his lead.

They didn’t get far into the hall before a sharp whining sound went off in Cas’ mind. He stopped suddenly, bringing his palms against his temple. The movement caused Dean to jerk back, not only choking him this time but sending him on his backside. He couldn't even stand to compose himself either, because by that time Cas had knelt to the ground with his ears ringing painfully.

Before he began yelling at his friend for causing him to falter, he noticed his state. “Cas?” He worried, beginning to reach out a hand to touch his shoulder. “What’s wrong buddy?”

“Ishim,” he stated through pained breaths. “Ishim is trying to contact me.”

Eyebrows rose in confusion and concern. “If he’s just trying to contact you, why are you like this?” He was trying to steady Cas, but there was nothing his mortal self could help with angelic problems. “Cas?”

But Cas didn’t answer. He didn’t want to admit how much his angelic abilities had changed, not just because he was weaker after obtaining a portion of his grace, but because of what he had gone through because Lucifer had shared his vessel. He didn’t want to explain that when Lucifer had been dispelled from his body, he’d been left with a little more grace than what Metatron had left him with. However, with that little extra burst of power, came a twisting of his grace too. 

Truth was, Cas wasn’t exactly himself these days. He was in complete control of his vessel and still had the same thought processes as before, as well as what stood in as his faith, but there were fundamental aspects of his being that had drastically changed.

One, he was angrier now. He was finding himself quicker to sass back and to be irritated with things that he had once had great patience to deal with. 

Two, that loathing he was beginning to feel more intensely was increasing inwards as well. Cas had felt a lack of self-worth for a while, ever since he had allowed himself to be controlled by the Leviathans and had betrayed his human family, but it was so much more now. 

Most importantly, at least in this case, was that his grace no longer worked the way it once had. He was still an angel, and could still perform the same small miracles he had before, but the way those miracles were performed had shifted. It was no longer of the light hearted grace, one of innocent faith and devotion for a higher purpose, but rather grace that had been charred by darkness.

Therefore, when he was dealing with other angels, the way their graces interacted was different. He had realized this as soon as he had been left alone in his vessel and had seen his Father face to face with no older brother standing in his stead. Chuck could hardly look upon without glancing away because of the damage done to the once brightened grace. However, when he had heard the cries from Benjamin, there had been no pain, and he hoped that the twisting of his grace in such a way had been momentary. But it wasn’t. His grace was still trying to repel the graces of other angels.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was cracking, worry seeping through with the depth that it usually held when dealing with family. “Can you stand?” There was no movement to do so. “What do you need me to do?” There was no answer.

Not that Dean would have been able to do anything anyways. Tied to Cas the way he was, he wouldn’t be able to move away far enough to get his friend whatever he might need. They would have to wait for Sam to come back, or hope that Ishim stopped whatever he was trying to do. 

Cas sunk forwards, his forehead hitting Dean’s shoulder, and his muscles relaxed due to an oncoming unconsciousness. 

This was a horrible way to end the day, they both thought as Cas was weakening. And they had both been so close to having something close to normal despite circumstances.


	6. Dark Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas dreams, and realizes that Ishim had based his tricks on a little more truth than originally suspected.

Castiel stood in Bobby’s kitchen, leaning against the sink across from Dean. The hunter was squaring himself off, trying to make himself look bigger than he was, though in Castiel’s angelic perspective, this mere human could never seem big enough to intimidate him. Dean’s fists were clenched and his jaws set as he seethed in pseudo bravery, “Well...bang-up job so far. Stellar work with the witnesses. That’s nice.”

“We tried. And there are other battles, other seals. Some we’ll win, some we’ll lose. This one we lost. Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week.” He shouldn’t even be explaining himself to this human. “You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There’s a bigger picture here.” He moved in like a predator, closer to the hunter, pleased when the human bowed his head slight lower and tried to hide the fact that he shuffled back in fear. “You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in.”

It was a strange sense of pleasure that settled within his vessel’s chest when the hunter backed himself into the kitchen counter. There was a wave of pride that he could frighten the brave and reckless man into submission. 

********************

When Heaven sent him back down to Earth to inhabit whatever vessel would still accept him, whether it be Jimmy Novak or his daughter, Castiel had realized his failings. He understood that he had been to lenient with the human in his charge, and knew that from then on he wouldn’t allow such things to happen. 

And yet, this human, so full of himself and his own wishes, grabbed Castiel’s elbows and demanded to know what was going on. A human, he sneered inwardly, demanding something from him. “I learned my lesson while I was away,” he stated clearly and sternly. “I do not serve humans,” then with hard, icy eyes he seethed, “And I certainly don’t serve you.” 

********************

The hunter was on the ground, bleeding and bruised. “Do it,” he winched. “Do it.” It wasn't entirely sure what was being asked, but it didn’t matter too much.

Like the brief moments from the past two years, there was something within the vessel’s chest that pounded with pride and a sense of accomplishment. He had been the one to send the infamous hunter to his knees, and to keep him there. He, the angel that had betrayed Heaven, had been able to do what no other angel had yet been able to accomplish: have Dean Winchester submit to him. 

Which was probably one of the reasons that had sent Castiel here, in this alleyway, pulling the hunter up by his collar and slamming him back onto the grungy building. Yes, his angry was mostly because he had given everything up for this man, and it was now being shown that it would be all for nothing. But there was a small part of the angel, that also resisted the fact that Dean was about to allow himself to submit to Michael. And Castiel couldn’t accept that. He was the only one that Dean could any part of himself to. 

********************

Invisible to the three hunters in the room, Castiel observed their reactions to the realization that Crowley wasn’t dead, and verbalized their doubts about the angel’s participation in that. The entire ordeal was sickening.

Yet one good thing seemed to be coming out of it, Castiel couldn’t help but think upon looking upon them. Dean Winchester. Defending him. Fighting for him. Declaring with passion the trust he had him. 

It was clear to the angel now the reason that the hunter submitting to him more than any other. Because her trusted the angel more than any other. 

That thought wasn’t just warm, but also powerful in the sense that it had always been in recognizing how much Dean Winchester, the man known for his bull headedness and stubbornness, was willing to give up for him. He tried to ignore the fact that that faith would soon prove to be misplaced.

********************  
Despite sending the souls back into Purgatory, the Leviathans clung to him desperately, not willing to give up the power they had gained by taking over Castiel’s vessel. Unable to force Dean away from him fast enough, the Leviathans used his body to straddle the hunter, grinning manically with blood dripping down his face. 

“This is going to be so much fun,” they mocked, both the hunter fighting beneath them and the angel that was fighting against them inside. 

We know you want this, they cooed wickedly as they leaned further into the hunter’s heat, laughing at the way he struggled. You gave us a body. Let us give you him. 

But Castiel fought. They were not allowed to touch Dean. No one was allowed to touch Dean. 

********************

In his crazed state of mind, Castiel felt more than he could process thought. For example, when he was with Dean alone, outside the little cottage they had hid away in, far away from the eyes of others, Castiel felt the desire to cling to the hunter's body. And he would have, except the hunter’s eyes were like stone and the threat was clear in his body tone if Cas moved closer to him. 

It was in this state of mind, full of sensations and realizations that he had never truly bothered with before. Castiel had always thought the hunter beautiful and had always been attracted to the bright soul that lay within the strong body. A soul that demanded to be taken over and controlled by a merciful grace. 

But then came the realization that he no longer deserved to be that grace that could bend that powerful soul to submit to him. Even in his crazed state of mind, Castiel had enough to sense to back down. Dean Winchester was no longer his to command. 

*********************

Castiel hated Purgatory. There was something dirty in the air that stung his grace even more than hell fire had. Yet, there was an aspect of the land of monsters that he would never admit he enjoyed, and that was its effects on his hunter. Dean came alive with the thrill of purpose, and the opportunity to be the warrior that he deserved to be hailed as. More than that, though, Purgatory was a place that the hunter viewed as having something pure about it, and while Castiel might have disagreed, Dean treated his own desires honestly in that place more so than he ever had topside. 

As Benny walked away from the night to stand guard while the human was forced by the other two to find some kind of rest, Dean attempted to patrol their own little area. Except, Castiel wasn’t about to allow him to give up his rest to do so. 

“Sit,” he commanded, and was pleased when the hunter did so. He moved so that he too would be sitting, side by side the hunter. “Lay down.” Again, the hunter did as he was told without question, stretching his legs out before him and resting his head on the angel’s legs. “Go to sleep.” And the hunter attempted to follow through with the order.

Because in a place so pure, in the hunter’s mind, there was no reason to deny what he had always wanted. To have someone else look out for him. To stop fighting and to stop arguing, and just do as he was told. 

********************

When Castiel was human, it had been more than a year since he had believed himself worthy of having the hunter submit to him. He knew that after the Leviathans, after allowing insanity to consume him, after Naomi, after Metatron, and everything else that had happened between them, that he no longer had the right to even be thinking about the hunter giving himself over to the angel. 

But as a human, Castiel found that he had little control over what thoughts appeared in his mind, and his body’s reactions to those images

“Aren’t you going to say Hello?” The Dean Winchester was smiling at him smugly, his arrogant, cocky self trying to pretend like everything was still perfectly fine between them.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel granted, but he would give no more. 

His mind was too busy coming up with images that shouldn’t have ever been created. Of Dean coming to his place of work, and instead of posturing himself like he had the right to be there now, was on his knees begging for forgiveness, submitting to the angel once again after too many years of not allowing himself to do so. 

********************  
When he had been trapped in his own mind, Lucifer having complete control over what Castiel had long since deemed his own body, the fallen, weak angel had given up. He readily resigned himself to the tortures that his brother would hand out to him. As long as Lucifer dealt with Amara as was promised, he kept thinking, then he could deal with whatever Lucifer did to him. 

Except, Lucifer didn’t actually do much. He allowed Castiel to build a mental landscape in the back of his back to retire into, leaving him alone for the most part. When he did visit, it wasn’t to initiate pain or to mock him about the terror that he was creating on Earth. Rather, Lucifer just conjured some scenarios and allowed Castiel to run with them, hiding himself from his little brother’s perspectives as he watched with curious and slightly disgusted eyes Castiel’s interactions with the imagined Dean Winchester. 

Scenes that, Castiel was ashamed to admit even at that time, were mostly of the hunter submitting to Castiel. Of the hunter accepting Castiel’s apology, declaring passionately that Castiel still had his trust, and then murmuring his consent to whatever Castiel had in mind to do.

*********************

When Cas came to, Dean still linked to his wrist, the angel wanted to throw up, but with his grace back, twisted as it was, the ability up to do so was lacking. 

“Cas?” Dean startled from his sitting position next to the bed that the angle had been placed gently upon. “You okay man?”

“Yes,” he lied. Dean must have realized that it was a lie too, for his brows cinched together, but it was the Winchester habit to say they were fine when they weren’t, so Dean didn’t say anything. “How long have I been out?”

“Two hours.” There was a tense pause, before the hunter managed to ask, “So, you mentioned this was happening because Ishim was trying to talk to you?” Cas nodded. “What did he have to say?”

“I...I did not get any words from him.” Nothing but images from the past, scenes that truly did happens, and thoughts that really did cross his mind. Things that Cas remembered all too well, but really wished he could sometimes forget. Especially in a situation like this. Especially when Dean was only a day earlier accusing him of enjoying this, of having Dean at his mercy.

It isn’t the same. Cas sent out like a prayer to his misguided brother. I wanted Dean to come to me willing, not like this. Never like this. Nothing like this. 

It was unfortunate, because Cas had been the one to open the communication, that Ishim was now able to send his own thoughts through, loud and clear. But aren’t you tired to holding back? Aren’t you tired of letting that pathetic, demanding little human act as if he were your commander, when you should be his?

Immediately, Cas cut off the wave of communication. He would not allow Ishim to speak to him as if he knew him. He would not allow Ishim to think that his relationship with Dean could be analyzed by this angel’s standards. 

Lily, with her intelligence and human grace, must have been as much of a difficult woman as Dean was a difficult man. Cas, in the few moments that he had seen a few days before, and from the days that he remembered from a hundred years ago, figured Lily was a woman with charm and passion, just like Dean, and in that passion and charm, Ishim must have fallen in love. Or at least, as close to falling in love as Ishim had been capable of.

So, with a renewed sense of devotion, all centered around this one human, Ishim must have thought that the human had wanted him just as much. In an angel’s mind, one who was molded to understand that love was displayed by obedience and submission to the higher power (an angel’s love for their father). It must have been hard then, for an angel who had so much power and position like Ishim, to realize that for all of Lily’s admiration for the angels, she refused to submit, had refused to give herself to the angel she had summoned. 

And that sentiment, at least, Cas did understand. He had been devoted to the hunter far longer than the time that he had realized that devotions was love, and it had come to a shock that, despite the hunter’s claim of being family, that the hunter rarely submitted to him. At least, Cas assented, Dean hadn’t submitted to him in years, and now that Cas had learned for himself what these feelings truly meant, and about everything else that humans found significant, the angel couldn’t blame the hunter for this. 

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was worried, and the angel realized that he had been still for too long.

“I apologize, Dean.” He began to move, settling himself at the edge of the bed so that chain between him and Dean were loose. “Everything will be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are most welcomed.


	7. Water and Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a leash around his neck, tied to the wrist of his best friend, Dean hasn't really had the chance to take a shower...and he stinks.

Cas tried to act as everything was indeed fine, but the images that Ishim had dug up and forced upon him were difficult to get rid of now that they had re-emerged, made even more unbearable by Dean’s constant presence, chained to his wrist.

In his act that everything was fine, he followed Dean through the bunker in an attempt to finish the day, both of them hoping beyond belief that nothing more would ensue. They moved carefully, Cas still affected by the forced memories and Ishim’s words, and Dean too preoccupied with Cas’s well-being. 

The hunter’s behavior was unnerving, though he was attempting to keep his casual and good-natured attitude from earlier. Cas could tell that Dean’s quiet and almost demure actions were now a presence, hiding the aggressive response to this mess, wanting nothing more than to punch the offending problem, but not having the offender before him to do so.

Sam had ordered pizza, so Cas was saved the tension of moving around the kitchen in sync. Not that Cas had minded before. Watching Dean cook had been peaceful, made all the more pleasant by their proximity. He had especially liked that Dean had allowed him to cook. At this precise moment though, Cas didn’t think he could handle the hunter walking on eggshells around him in a space that was meant to be his expression of domesticity. 

As they entered the dining room, Sam wore his expected expression of concern towards Cas, who reassured him before anything could be said. “Everything is fine.” Dean gave a soft sound like a scoff or huff, obviously a signal of disagreement, but Cas gave him a sideways glare that kept him voicing those disagreements.

Seeming satisfied by the assurance, Sam smiled as they took their seats, his nose scrunching together when they were across from him. 

As they ate, Dean began to come back into himself, which was all at once comforting and annoying. On one hand, it meant that Dean was calming down, distracted for the time about Cas’s lapses of strength. On the other hand, it meant Dean was being Dean. With food in front of him, that meant some disturbing eating habits, like eating with his mouth open.

“Dean.”

“Yes?” Pizza still being chewed in a slack jaw.

“Please refrain from speaking with food in your mouth. It is an unwelcoming sight.” It may have been the exhaustion or the conflicting thoughts, but it made Cas more irritable about the bad habit.

Sam stared at Cas in surprise, but a laughing crinkle at the edges of his eyes. 

What was expected was for Dean to give a cheeky smile, because he seemed to enjoy the ability to annoy his family, and then continue doing whatever he wanted to do. Amazingly enough, this time Dean swallowed the food he had, nodded, and quietly did as he was told. The quiet way he did as he was asked was a little unsettling to Cas, who worried that it meant he was still bothered by what had happened earlier, except that Sam, who knew Dean best, found the situation humorous, so obviously there wasn’t anything to be concerned about.

Their dinner continued as before, and afterwards they moved awkwardly - at least in Cas and Dean’s case - into the gathering room where Dean had convinced Sam to let him set up couches and a TV. Cas and Dean sat on the couch while Sam took the furthest seat from them, which wouldn’t have been too odd, except for the pause when they sat and Sam’s purposeful avoidance. 

“Dude.” Dean suddenly snapped.

“What?”

“You’ve been giving us the stink eye since we started eating.” By that, Cas assumed Dean meant the scrunched up nose. 

“That’s because you stink.”

“No I don’t.”

“How long has it been since you showered?”

The eldest brother flushed, his ears burning an especially bright red, before he became indignant. “You know since when.”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me. I’m just saying.”

Before Dean had the chance to continue with his illogical rage at his brother, Cas interfered. “He has a point Dean.”

The green-eyed hunter’s frustration was still present on his face, but he huffed away any further complaints. “Whatever. I’m done.” He pushed himself up, momentarily forgetting that being chained to his best friend meant that he couldn't leave the immediate area so suddenly without the consequences of being chocked back.

His brother tried to stifle a laugh, caught between utter amusement and feeling guilty about that amusement. 

Again, Dean flushed a beat red, angry and embarrassed. Not wanting any more unnecesary emotional pain, Cas stood calmly. “We can leave.” He said quietly, prompting Dean to stand again and they both walked away. 

“Stupid Sam,” Dean grumbled as they moved through the corridor of rooms. 

“He was correct though. You do smell.”

Red heated the hunter’s cheeks. “There’s nothing that can be done about it!”

“You could take a shower.”

“And exactly how am I supposed to do that?”

Human decency, Cas had to remind himself was a thing, and Dean, for all his obnoxious rebellion, was a man that followed the unspoken rules of humanity. Rule: men did not shower together unless it was in the locker room of a sports game or they were gay. And Dean, raised to be the eptiome of masculinity, could never allow himself to be seen as the latter.

Patience. That was what was needed when dealing with deep rooted issues making small matters like hygiene out of proportion. “Dean, we don’t know how long this...situation...will last.”

Compared to most hunters, at least American hunters, Dean kept up a very clean appearance. In fact, with the exception of when he was on an adrenaline high, Cas suspected Dean of being borderline germaphobic. Sot it didn't surprise the angel when Dean stopped in his complaints to pout as a means of leading up to accepting a hard decision. He scowled at his shirt, too many days on his body without being cleaned, and screwed up his nose. With a disgruntled, grudging expression, Dean trodded past his room to the restroom with Cas close in tow. 

He shut the door quietly, but tensely, still battling with himself but having decided what needed to be done. They stood in the restroom, Dean starring at the door, lost in an abyss of thought, and Cas behind him, waiting for a signal as to what he needed to do in this moment. 

He wasn’t sure how long he could wait though. If he waited too long for Dean to make a move, the hunter might talk himself out of taking a shower, or he might tear into Cas’ verbally, expelling his frustration out on him. So, afraid Dean would back out, Cas stated gently, “Dean, I believe you have to get undressed first.”

Blood flowed to the back of his neck, which was the part of Dean Cas could see, but he didn’t rage against the angel. Instead, with terse movements, he unbuckled his jeans and removed them so that he stood in his boxers and shirt. The he froze.

“Dean?” 

Graveled and biting back irritation, Dean explained, “How am I supposed to take off my shirt?” 

“I suppose we could cut it off.”

The hunter huffed. “I like this shirt.”

Cas gave a wry smile. “You like all your shirts.” Dean shrugged, but otherwise didn’t move. “Come on, if you don’t do this, I doubt Sam will want to be in the same room as you until you smell like you again.”

When Dean didn’t say anything in response, Cas figured it to be acceptance. He grabbed the scissors from the cabinet and slowly and gently cut shirt from the back until it fell to the floor. 

After a few moments of patience…. “I believe to bathe properly, one must divest everything.” Cas had to state again, very carefully.

“Yea, I...just give me a second.” The hunter took in a shaky breath before forcing himself to bare himself completely naked. “Don’t look.” It was said almost as a plea, but added on much too late.

It was also unnecessary, behaving as if Cas had never seen Dean in such a state before. There was nothing about the human that the angel hadn’t already seen, whether during his time of reconstruction after Hell, or in the brief months he watched from the invisible sidelines over his newly issued charge.

Years on earth, though, had taught him that humans, especially Dean's did not take that type of reminder lightly. So he kept quiet and closed his eyes as Dean shuffled around to turn on the water. On his side of the leash, Cas could feel Dean trying to maneuver himself into the shower and try to comfortably but efficiently get the job done. As far as Cas could tell, it wasn’t going well. That was confirmed when Dean grumbled, “This isn’t working.”

“Do you want me…”

“Don’t....Just…” Understanding what he wasn’t secure enough to say or hear, Cas angle mojo-ed his clothes off and stepped into the shower behind Dean. “Just,” Dean was practically hyperventilating, “just stay still and keep your eyes closed.”

“Of course.”

Except, Cas couldn’t really bring himself to close his eyes again. It was hard enough forcing himself to not reach out and help Dean wash away the stink that had built up in the last few days. Anyways, it wasn’t like he had to, with Dean’s back to him, too embarrassed and tense to bother to turn around and soak his back. 

Cas waited patiently as Dean washed, closing his eyes only when Dean twisted slightly to reach the harder parts of his body, though the hunter’s eyes never wavered to Cas. Then, as the water cascaded down taunt and scarred muscles, Dean just stood with his head slightly bowed, his breaths heavy enough that Cas could see it in the way his body moved. Seconds passed and Cas was beginning to be concerned with the hunter’s state of mind. 

“Dean? Dean?” Carefully, he brought his hand gently onto the other’s shoulder. His body shook at the contact. “Dean?” But still the only response were deep breaths, struggling to retain control. It was then that Cas remembered something that he should never have allowed to push aside to be momentarily forgotten, but was unavoidable to do so because of Dean’s persisting devil-may-care attitude. 

Dean Winchester had panic attacks...was in a state of panic that instant.

Not knowing what else to do, but knowing he shouldn’t let them stay under the chilling water, Cas gathered his grace to fly them out of the restroom and into Dean’s room, the door shut and locked. Close to the bed, Cas took hold of the comforter and swept it from the bed to wrap around Dean so he could no longer be bared naked and cold. 

The hunter was still panicking, trying to catch a breath he didn’t have. So Cas, still at a loss as to what he needed to do to ease the process, did his best to calm his friend. Slowly, and with great care, he pressed down on Dean’s shoulder to signal that Dean should take a seat, which he did, his body shivering. 

Having angel mojo-ed his clothes back onto himself, but unable to collect Dean’s clothes, Cas kneeled before the hunter, his hand on his knee. Green eyes were glazed, struggling to focus, lost in whatever panic he had barricaded himself in. 

“Dean,” he whispered apologetically, “please breathe. Breathe.” Then, as if Cas’ voice alone had some kind of power, Dean did start to breathe properly. That did not mean, however, that his eyes focused. 

Now that the important aspect was taken care of, Cas was willing to wait patiently for Dean to come back into himself on his own. Moments passed tensely until finally Dean managed to break himself out of his self-induced panic. In a hoarse whisper, he said, “I need clothes.”

“Of course,” but he couldn’t gather them for a Dean without forcing him alone.  
Like a zombie, Dean stood slowly with the comforter held tightly to himself to cover all sensitive areas. Without being told, Cas closed his eyes and turned himself around as much as possible without bothering Dean. Given a semblance of privacy, Dean hurriedly pulled on a pair of boxers. Once he was calm, he was able to regain his natural cool, and turned to Cas to say, “I see you angel mojo-ed your clothes on.”

“They are commonalities that my graced naturally associates with my vessel. I…”

Dean give him the chance to say his apology. “Yea, I get. I guess.”

For what seemed like long minutes, they stood staring at each other in awkward stillness. Or, Cas stared at Dean while the latter gazed off to the side. Cas was glad Dean was breathing regularly and that he had broken himself away from his panic, but he was still concerned about his mental stability. He wanted to talk about it, to find out what had happened to send Dean into such a vulnerable state, but he was aware of his friend’s aversions to such conversations, and so decided to leave it for now. He didn’t want to take the chance of Dean reverting back into the panic.

“Would you like to sit?” He asked soothingly. Dean did so without a word. “Are you tired or would you like to watch something on the laptop?”

Dean shook his head. “My earphones are in the drawer,” he nodded to the nightstand. Cas stretched to obtain them for him.

While Dean listened to music to force himself to further calm down, Cas was content to watch him. He hated to see the tension in the hunter’s body. Even now that the panic attack had subsided, he was still suffering from the drain. It was even worse that Cas knew that the majority of that panic was because of him. Cas just wished that he could understand the reasons behind it. 

Sometime after Dean had fallen asleep, leaving Cas sitting by his side, a knock came at the door. Cas unlocked the door using his grace. Sam peeked inside.”The shower was still on,” he whispered, stepping quietly into the room, noticing immediately his brother’s unconscious state. 

“I apologize. I forgot to turn it off.” Sam stared, silently asking for more. “Dean had a panic attack.”

Hazel eyes widened in concern, fighting back the urge to step forward to check for himself his brother’s security. “What happened?”

“I am unsure, but he has calmed.”

Sam nodded, concern still evident. “Look after him.”

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an explanation in the next chapter as to why Cas hasn't been able to use his angel-mojo for things like teleporting him and Dean directly to the bunker's door or cleaning Dean up.


	8. Understanding Motives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean becomes upset that Cas has been using his grace for some means, and not for what he deems as necessary.

In the morning Dean blinked open his eyes blurrily. Lazily, he pushed himself to a sitting position and took out the earphones that had stayed in all night, lulling him to sleep with classic rock. The first thing that his eyes were clear enough to focus on was Cas sitting at the edge of the bed beside him, having not moved much during the night.

In his eyes, Cas could read the question, which soon became guilt, but Dean didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. To say anything about why Cas had stayed in the same position throughout the night would mean to acknowledge that something had been wrong. And Dean couldn’t admit that there had been something wrong with him. 

Cas understood this about his friend, which is why he didn’t ask any of the questions that he wished to: How did you sleep?, Are you better?, What happened yesterday? It was the angel’s intention to not ask at all, not unless Dean came into a sense of trust and acceptance of himself and was the one to start the conversation. 

They started their day by heading into the self-proclaimed dining room where Sam had just gotten back from his morning job, waiting patiently for Dean to make breakfast.Except, Dean wasn’t in the mood to do so. Politer than he typically would have been, he requested, “You mind getting us something to eat?” Sam stared for a moment, nodded, and then began to head back outside. “Donuts, maybe?”

Cas could see that Sam wanted to argue, or at the very least pout. One of the things that the younger brother enjoyed about the hunter was that Dean cooked for them so they’d have a break from diner and fast food. He also didn’t approve of the choice food that Dean was fond of when ordering out. This was one of those times, though, that he would humor his brother instead. 

As they waited for him to return, Dean was careful to stay close enough that the leash didn’t but was still able to avoid any and all touching. The only move he really made was a slow paced walk to the fridge for a beer. 

Cas frowned. “Are you sure you should be drinking this early?” Though it wasn’t out of character for the hunter to drink at whatever time he felt like, doing so before noon usually foretold a miserable day. 

Surprisingly, Dean paused as if truly considering the concerned advice being given to him. They then waited for Sam to come back sitting on the couch, no beer in hand. 

Unsettled by the silence Dean seemed to want them to be smothered with, Cas used his grace to turn on the TV. At least then, he could distract himself from his friend’s issues and the refusal to talk about those issues.

Strangely, the action made Dean frown, his brows cinched together in deep thought and great irritation. Cas briefly wondered if he should just ignore the hunter’s reaction, concerned that speaking would upset him, but then decided the over sensitivity to Dean’s emotional rollercoaster was too exhausting in itself. “What is wrong now?”

“Excuse me?” He barked back.

Cas sighed. “Why the attitude? Did you not want the TV on?” 

Dean scoffed. “I’m not upset about the TV.”

“Then what?”

Red boiled to the hunter’s ears, gathering together the rage that was never too far away. He stood abruptly, this time remembering the leash all too well as he yanked it roughly from the middle as to force Cas up into his face. “You’re just going to use your grace for something so mundane, and then ask what’s wrong!?”

Maybe Cas should have expected this. Dean had a habit of going from too cold to boiling hot in an instant. He had always been a man of extremes. But Cas’ understanding of his friend’s character did not equate to him understanding the reason behind any of it. 

“You’ve never been this angry about me using my grace before.” Except for the time he had wanted to fly him to a case instead of allowing the time to drive, but that had been many years ago.

“What about me then?!” Cas stared, his head tilted in a lack of comprehension. “Why couldn’t you have used your grace yesterday?” The angel began to connect the dots, but Dean had gained momentum and there was no room for excuses when that happened. “I knew it!” Dean spat, green eyes too infuriated to look into withotu wilting. “You do enjoy this! This...this...mess up thing! This!” He jerked the leash, the chain digging into Cas’s wrist. “Making me your fucking pet!”

The accusation stabbed into Cas’s as if the words were a physical weapon. “We talked about this,” Cas’s graveled voice broke. 

“Yea, we did. You spouted out bullshit, and I believed you.” He dropped the leash to instead grab hold of Cas’s collar, fists tightened into the cloth. “But if this bothered you like said, you wouldn’t be so chill about all of it. You wouldn’t act like this!”

 

Despite the pain beneath his ribs and the instinct against the one who displayed intent to harm him, Cas spoke as calmly as he could bring his vessel to be. Dean was behaving erratically, he had to tell himself, and any aggressive response would only makes things worse. “That isn’t true.”

 

“Liar!” The anger was seeping so deeply into the hunter’s eyes that the whites of them were began to redden. A deep, laboring breath could be felt between them, a warning of further verbal abuse, possible punches or slamming into walls. It wasn’t like neither of them weren’t known for doing that to one another.

A cough from the other end of the room dispelled the aggressive behavior, but not the furious tension.Leaving no time for Dean to regain his momentum, Sam made use of his long legs to quickly reach his brother, thrusting a box of donuts into his chest, causing Dean to release the angel. Calmly but sternly, Sam suggested they get out of the bunker for some fresh air before they killed one another. An argument was on the tip of damned lips, but Sam shot him down. “Take a walk through the woods. No one will see you.”

In a huff, Dean glared at his brother and then led Cas to outside into the woods angrily. Once outside, Cas thought he could have the chance to say his piece, but Dean noticed the attempt and snapped, “Don’t talk! It’s bad enough I can’t get away from you.”

Sometimes it still surprised Cas that Dean had the audacity to act as if he had complete control over the other. As if he had the high ground of commanding the angel, treating him however he wanted on the whim of his emotionally stunted being. An awful thought came over him, urged by his own anger at the situation and his friend’s returned accusations. Maybe Ishim had a point: Dean did have a tendency of taking him for granted and belittling his power when the mood suited him. Treating him like a pet, the angel though with venom. 

Now, generally Cas let Dean’s attitude slide, at least when it was something petty. However, the venom seeped outside of himself and Cas froze suddenly to force Dean to choke back. Before the hunter had the chance to yell, Cas seethed in his commanding voice that had once sent subtle shivers down Dean’s spine. “Stop. You will listen to what I have to say.” It had the same effect it once had, with Dean silencing himself. “You have no right to accuse me. I am not responsible for this spell. I do not find pleasure in you being humiliated. And I do not appreciate the attitude towards me when we are in the same position.”

Dean scowled at the last statement, but continued to keep his mouth shut until Cas gave the signal that he was done. His self-control in waiting for Cas to say what he needed to say soothed the simmer. 

So when he continued, he did so with a softer edge. “From your...tantrum earlier, I assume this returned rage is due to me not using your grace to cleanse you?” Dean gave a curt nodd. “Dean, if I could have, do you truly think I wouldn’t?” The other stared for a moment before shrugging. Seeing that Dean was still willing to be as silent as Cas had requested, the angel stated calmly, “You may say what you need to say.”

 

Reigning in his anger, Dean explained, “At first I thought you couldn’t. That your grace was limited because of this, but then you flew us into my room, and you used your grace on the TV. You could obviously dry yourself with your grace, and angel-mojo your clothes back on. So obviously you have access to your grace. You just didn’t choose to use it.”

“I did try, but it wasn’t working. I tried to gather your clothes as well. And tried to fly us to the bunker when we were in the motel. It seems that at times my grace refuses to act as it should.” Dean looked skeptical, but he didn’t react in rage.

Cas could see the questions running through his quick mind. If this was true, then why had’t Cas said anything before? Why did his grace only act out occasionally? Why did it only seem to refuse to behave properly when it was Dean’s comfort at stake?

Now that Cas had managed to calm him down enough to see at least a little reason, Dean’s loyalty was fighting against the doubt. He wanted to believe Cas, to accept whatever crazy excuse he was able to provide. He was just struggling. 

Thing was, Cas did have a guess as to what was happening with his grace. He just didn’t think Dean would like it very much. Except, Dean was staring at him in a mixture of resentment and trust, not sure where to go from there. 

Hoping his theory wouldn’t set Dean off again, Cas explained, “It occurred to me that Ishim’s grace is connected to the chain and leash themselves, which is how he bypassed the bunker’s wards and my own defenses to attack me mentally. It is possible then, that because he’s connected to the chains, he could be monitoring them, which in turn could mean he’s monitoring what I use my grace for.”

To limit his grace completely would have been draining on Ishim, but he could limit for brief moments, times in which Dean would be vulnerable to Cas, forced to rely on the angel. Which is what the older angel would believe Dean’s place to be, vulnerable and subservient.

The hunter thought of the theory seriously, the wheels spinning at ferocious speed. “It’s that true,” and Cas knew that when Dean said things like that he found the idea reasonable and most likely true. “Then he’s watching us. Why?” Thankfully, he no longer sounded angry, but he was confused and that meant he was still suspicious. 

Cas took too long to answer, trying to think of something reasonable without sharing all the details. The long pause registered with the hunter, who narrowed his eyes and deepened his tone. 

“Cas?” He practically growled, not necessarily furious, but rather using a threatening tone to persuade honesty. “Why would Ishim even care to spy on us?”

His own voice like gravel, Cas gave up the little bit he knew. “I believe he thinks he is trying to do me a service.” 

“Yea, I got that from before. But how would spying on us be doing you a favor?”

Instead of trying to verbalize one of the theories that had come to mind, Cas sighed disheartedly. “That, I do not know.”

Dean nodded, stood for a second in stillness, then grabbed the leash in the middle to gently tug forwards, and he and Cas walked onto the path. Cas was happy to follow, pleased that the hunter was calming down. Dean was still anxious and on edge, but it was an internal conflict rather than being aimed at the angel. 

While Dean had his mental battle to war against, Cas took the time to appreciate the expanse of wilderness beyond the bunker. Everything was so lively, their life force making the space green, sometimes purple, blue, and red, allowing the sun to dance energetically on the packed dirt. It was areas like this in the world that truly spoke of the beauty of God’s creation. 

His gaze unintentionally drifted to Dean at the passing thought of God’s beautiful creation. Dean walked with a gradual release of all stress he had rallied together within himself. He liked to pretend that he wasn’t impacted by nature on a spiritual level. That he could rough it and brave the harsh wild, but would never admit that he enjoyed it simply for its aesthetic sense. Yet he did. Beneath the edged attitude, and the storm-ridden temperament, Dean appreciated beauty in all its forms, especially that of natural beauty. 

“Care to take a seat?” His gruff voice broke the peace between them. They had stopped about two miles from the bunker where a comfortable clearing was marked by lush, untouched grass and towering trees that bent their branches inward. 

Cas though the peace could continue on as they arranged themselves as comfortable as possible against the root of a tree. Apparently that was not Dean’s intentions, which is something Cas should have known.

“You know what I still don’t get?”

“What?”

“Why is Ishim attempting to do you a favor in the first place? I would have thought he’d hate your guts. He certainly ated that way at first.”

This, Cas definitely didn’t want to give an answer to, though he knew the reason, because if he gave the rational, Dean would most likely sink into an emotional response that was so much worse than anger: guilt and self-loathing. His refusal to provide an answer, however, was enough confirmation of Dean’s depreciating thoughts. 

“Because he came to the conclusion that everything you’ve in the last...9 years...wasn’t really on you, right?” 

“Dean,” Cas tried to stop, but it was no use. 

“There was that other angel that pretty much said as exactly that.” There was a bitterness seeping into the voice, choking at the end, “You became lost the moment you touched me.”

“That isn’t true,” Cas promised wholeheartedly. “I became stronger the moment my grace embraced your soul. I have become better.” And that was true, no matter that had happened to him within the last decade, despite his own mistakes. The truth didn’t sway Dean, who bowed his head in depressing though, his neck cut into by the collar. “I am older than all of humankind.” There was that petulant look that Dean got anytime the angel reminded him just how supernatural he was. “Yet in those billions and billions of years, I simply only existed.” To be an obedient soldier, nothing else. Dean was unmoved, so Cas decided he needed to take a different route. “Naomie says my chalice has always had a crack in it.”

Dean scoffed. “That bitch doesn’t know shit.” 

Cas smiled fondly at his friend’s crass way of defending him, even from a force that was no longer a threat. “What she meant was that I have always had a tendency of doubting my superiors, of taking stock in my doubt. According to her, I had to be continually reprogrammed.” Dean clenched his fists at the mention of being ‘reprogrammed’. 

Cas didn’t blame the surge of anger. What Naomi had done went against multiple core principles. One, it had made Cas beat him almost to death, an unpleasant notion in of itself, but made even more horrible by the fact that Dean had refused to fight back. Two, it went against the ideal of free will, something they had sacrificed too much for to allow a pompous angel to think she could control any of them. And three, she had screwed with a member of his family.

He continued could verbalize that rage. “So, there is no reason to think you have cause my troubles. I have been known for being such an angel. Rather, you are like a catalyst. You were simply the blade that broke my chains.”


	9. Invisible Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guest appearance by Lily Sunders, who hopefully comes with answers and help.

It was awkward after that, but at least the tension between them was no longer aggressive. They spent a few more minutes in silence before slowly making their way back to the bunker. Dean was back to being too thoughtful to talk and Cas was too busy worrying about Dean to try to back that silence. So they walked back to the bunker quietly, where Sam had finished his own healthy breakfast and was now researching in the library.

“Think you could get ahold of Lily?” Was the first immediate thing Dean said once they were inside. 

Sam looked up in surprise. “Ah, yea, I think so. Why?”

“Well, I was thinking, this is gotta have more than angel mojo about it.” He looked to Cas for confirmation. “Right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, it’s probably also something like witchcraft. Or at least something like it.”

Cas narrowed his eyes in thought. “It would be an odd combination. Angels wouldn’t sink to the level of mortal witches.”

“What about Lily though? What she was doing was angel stuff, right? But different?”

Sam was nodding along, easily following his brother’s thought process. “Lily said she had summoned Ishim and they spent a lot of time together before he became obsessive. He might have gained some knowledge from her, just like she did from him.” He stood. “I’ll go see if I can get into contact with her and bring her here.”

Which against left Dean and Cas alone. Though, maybe that was best. The hunter did tend to be more honest with just one person, and he wouldn’t be as embarrassed or self-conscious as he would have been with an audience. Also, it would be better now. At least Cas hoped it would be, having things been said and mostly dealt with. 

It didn’t take long for them to retire to Dean’s room, leaving the door ajar so Sam could call for their attention if needed them or if he had good news about the Lily front. They settled in comfortably on Dean’s bed with the laptop in front of Cas, allowing the angel to catch up on whatever he wanted. 

After the rage and emotional overspill of the morning, the afternoon was spent peacefully, if not a little restlessly. Cas was determined to enjoy the rest between them for as long as it would stand, knowing that if the past few days were to be any judge, Dean would soon be rollercoasting back into a fit of either rage or self-deprecation. 

He also hoped that Sam would soon have good news and they would be closer to getting the chains that had caused such awful arguments removed. Because, though Dean and Cas hadn’t had their share of bad arguments, before they had always had the chance to take a break from one another before coming back to some sort of understanding. It was an opportunity that Cas was sure they both missed.

Except, he was beginning to think as he settled comfortably aside the quiet hunter, maybe having that opportunity was what had always been the problem. Though they had always seemed like they had moved on, there was no doubt that each fight and each disagreement that had been left unfinished had left a gap in their once profound bond. Having never truly talked about any of the things that had come between them, they had developed a relationship seeped in suspicion and bitterness.

What would have happened if any of those times they had raged against one another, for whatever reason, they had actually discussed the issue at hand instead of pretending it could be pushed aside for more “pressing matters”? Would any of those times have ended like the argument they have had hours before? With Cas having fully explained himself and his thoughts, and Dean having shared his insecurities and coming to his senses. Would any of those times have ended side by side without worry that where was more burdening their shoulders?

Maybe, he was beginning to think, despite the tension that had risen and the blood that had boiled, they were better off with having talked it out. Out of all the trouble that the leash had caused, maybe this was one of the good things to come out of it. Because now Dean wasn't bitterly wondering why Cas wasn’t using his grace for him. They had been able to share their thoughts on the subject, in whatever tone they had needed to be said in, and gotten through it still in tact.

In fact, Cas was beginning to see the value in Sam’s nagging for what Dean mocked as “sharing and caring” and “chick flick moments”. There was a sense of peace in having talked things out that Cas appreciated. There was something healthy and stable in the act that his and Dean’s relationship (as intense as it had always been) had always been lacking.

Footsteps sounded outside the room, stopping at the threshold, peeking his shaggy head inside, “Got a hold of her. She’s on her way. Should be here later this evening. I’ll pick her up once she gets to the ledge.”

“How’d you manage that so quickly?”

“She gave me her number.”

“Oh?” Dean laughed with a smirk. “Then what took you so long?”

“Filling her in on the situation. She doesn’t know if she can do anything, but she’s willing to give it a try.”

With a sincere, brotherly grin, Sam placed the door back into the position it was before he came up and his footsteps could be heard retreating down the corridor. The atmosphere of the room became not only peaceful, but easier too. There were no exclamations of any kind, just a further relaxed body, on the edge of hoping for the best.

They passed the waiting hours in quiet, comfortable companionship. Cas continued to watch shows on the laptop, squinting at the moments he couldn’t understand, sometimes voicing those questions aloud. Depending on the question, Dean might give a short reply, or he might shrug, no longer attentive to the show playing on the small screen. The majority of the hunter’s focus was on the book he had pulled from the drawer of his nightstand.

Hours later, closing in on the night, Dean’s phone pinged from beside the bed. “Sam. Says he’s back with Lily.” They set their entertainment aside and maneuvered carefully off the bed to start their way to the war room. 

Her eyes widened at the sight of the leash that connected the two. The surprised, intense gaze made Dean uncomfortable. Cas could tell from the way he stiffened. With the prospect of having a way out of this mess, though, he managed to restrain himself and remain polite. 

She nodded in return to his greeting, worrying her bottom lip thoughtfully and critically. Then she turned to Sam and requested that they had privacy, to which Sam did so without a word. As soon as he was in another room, she moved towards Dean and Cas, hovering just before asking, “Do you mind?” Cas nodded in permission.

Dean clenched his teeth as she touched the chain between them, allowing her to do her research without complaint on his part. Except until he became impatient with the long seconds she stayed examining the leash. “Well?”

“You’re right. It’s a mixture between Enochian and witchcraft.”

Dean nodded, ignoring the way the chain rattled from the movement. “Anything you can do?”

“No.”

“No?” 

“I’ve never studied witchcraft. Only Enochian spells and wards. You’ll need an actual witch to help you out. And a powerful one too. Or another angel, though I can’t imagine any of the others would be willing to help you, based off of what I’ve heard.”

“Great,” Dean grumbled with a huff. 

Cas just lowered his head. “Thank you for coming though.”

Lily nodded curtly, her lips thin. Her fingers played with the chain again, only to drop it when Dean pulled back from the unnecessary intrusion. “I could probably manipulate the chain itself.”

“What do you mean?”

She reached for the leash again, mumbled Enochian under her breath, and the chain itself became invisible.

Though no longer visible, the weight of the chain was still at Cas’s wrist, and he knew that Dean could still feel the metal against his neck. The hunter stared at the blank space between them, caught between slight relief at not having to see the evidence and a continued disappointment at the leash still being present. “That’s…” he huffed, “great. Thanks.”

Cas could tell that Dean was trying to be grateful for what she had done, knowing how hard it must have been for her to help an angel she had associated with the murder of her daughter for hundreds of years. That knowledge didn’t keep the depression from his gruff voice.

Lily seemed to understand Dean well with just a look not her cold eye and it caused her set lips to became more stern in its thoughts. “I’ll do a bit of research to do what I can, but I suggest you get yourself a witch.” Her voice was sound and it was clear that she found her business at the bunker done. With nothing left to do, she led herself out.

Second passed after she was gone until Dean ran his calloused fingers through his messy hair. “Well, that was pointless.”

“Not necessary.” Cas tried to reason. “If we can get a witch, it might break it.” Dean scoffed because they knew a witch and they didn't trust her at all. “And at least now we can get out of the bunker.” Which he hoped would ease at least a little tension from the hunter’s state of being. 

“Right.” Cas supposed that it was something that Dean was trying to sound like things were a little better. “Probably can’t go hunting though.” Which of course was the problem now. It wasn’t enough to just get out of the bunker, but to get back to his way of life. The something occurred to Dean that lifted his expression. “But I guess we could go to a bar.”

Cas furrowed his brows. “We could drink here.”

“Nah. Need to get out of here.”

Sam came back into the room, looking around curiously. “Where did Lily go?”

“She turned the chain invisible and then took off. Said we’d need an actual witch to get rid of it.”

Sam glanced to the seemingly empty space between them, processing what had been said. Then he brought his hazel eyes to Dean in determination, eager to help his brother. “Then I guess we call Rowena.”

Dean scoffed with more venom. “I don’t trust that hag.” A feeling that was shared with everyone in the room. However, he was the only witch they knew who was powerful enough to be of use. 

Also, “She has been more helpful since the whole Darkness thing.”

“Yea, because it saved her own ass. And for a catch.”

Except, the catch hadn’t been all that dire. Certainly not as dire as they had known her to be. Cas still considered evil, but he had the sense to understand that she no longer had the need to ruin the Winchesters. After all that had happened, she had begun to see the advantage of being on the brothers’ good side.

Sam was under a similar notion. “It won’t kill us to ask.”

“It might,” the other muttered. Before either of two could argue, he announced. “Cas and I are going to the bar. You’re coming too. You’ll be our designated driver.”

It was clear from Sam’s expression that he didn’t approve of the decision. He, most likely, thought it would have been best to get ahold of Rowena right away and research until she got back to them. Those arguments were never said aloud. Like Cas, Sam understood Dean’s need to get out and wouldn’t deny him that.


	10. The Bar's Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the leash invisible, Dean, Cas, and Sam go to a bar, where Dean becomes relaxed and Cas attempts to flirt.

So they ended up at one of the local, not-too-shabby bar where there were only a handful of people, all of whom were too caught up in their own business to give any mind to anyone else. They found a seat in the back to fade into the shadows - Dean’s caution attempt to not be seen so close to another male body. He sent Sam to get them beers, staying put in a mostly content state by Cas. 

As Sam did as he was told, Cas saw the way Dean nodded in greeting at the broad shouldered bartender who nodded in return, a small, sly grin on his face. Obviously, Dean had been to this bar before. 

He wasn’t sure if this would be a problem later in the evening, knowing too well Dean’s tendency to take stock in how others saw him. His worry seemed unfounded as Sam came back with drinks. Out of the bunker and beer in hand, Dean relaxed. He drained the bottle, joked with them, laughed, and drank some more. 

For the beginning part of the evening, Sam kept a wary eye on Dean, but as the night continued, his gaze drifted to the opening door, following whoever had come through with an appraising look. A fact that didn’t go unnoticed by his brother. 

Dean glanced over his shoulder and laughed. “Just go.” Giving his little brother no time to argue, he insistently shooed him away. Like in most ridiculous things, Dean won, and soon Sam was sliding out of the booth to the pretty brunette who now sat lonely at the bar, Dean winking as he left, not only at his retreating brother, but at the girl too. She smiled and signaled “thank you” with her right hand. 

Cas watched curiously as Sam took an awkward seat next to the girl who smiled more with her eyes than her lips. He turned back before he was caught staring, directing his gaze to the hunter beside him. Before he could wonder if Dean was truly okay with his brother abandoning them for a girl on their night out, the hunter was whispering, “Slowly move to the other side and keep you hands on the table, huh?” Cas nodded, and maneuvered without error to sit across from his friend. 

When he moved, Dean was nodding again to the male bartender, who gathered shots to bring over. “Thanks Mark. And keep ‘em coming.” 

The man, Mark, chuckled in affirmation. “And your buddies?”

“My baby brother, Sam,” he motioned to where Sam now sat, and then jerked his chin to the angel, “and this is Cas.”

Mark smiled kindly in greeting. “I’ll take care of both of them for you, bud.”

As he returned to the bar to continue his work, Cas stated, “You’ve come here after.”

Dean shrugged, sipping his whiskey languidly. “Been here a couple of times.”

With that, Cas observed the bar again, caught up in the details that made this place far different than the Winchesters’ usual haunts. One, it wasn’t bustling with the activity that Dean seemed to crave. Instead, it was quiet, very low key, with country and classic rock playing from the jukebox. Two, other than the woman that Sam conversed with, the other group of women appeared to have no interest of being “talked up” by available men. Not that there seemed to be many available men present. The majority of them had rings on their left hands, if not with their wife by their side. 

Cas decided to point out the oddity of it not being his usual type of “hang out”. The air quotes made the hunter’s lips quirk. “It’s close to the bunker.” It was said in that tone of his that was breezy and casual, hiding the fact that there was more beyond his reasons for coming to this bar. Cas had heard that sound often enough when Dean tried to make others overlook his love of soap operas, or romantic films, and slow, sentimental music. Obviously, there was something about this bar that Dean liked that he thought would oppose the perspective he preferred people have of him. 

He couldn’t question it, though, not wanting to disrupt Dean’s contentment. Rather, he just sipped whatever alcoholic beverage Dean thought appropriate, enjoy the comfortable conversation, and listen to the sad melodies that played in the background. 

They were only interrupted occasionally by the bartender that went out of his way to come by to refill their drinks, always smiling with a brightness in his dark eyes. One time he even brought over a plate of nachos. “On the house.”

Cas watched Mark make his way back to the station, eyebrows cinched together, not entirely sure about the way his gut twisted angrily. “He is very friendly to you.”

For a second, green eyes stared at the monotone statement, before light sparked within the iris and he was smirking coyly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.” 

There was something in his expression that had Cas wanting to play along, but still a little lost about the game itself. “I wouldn’t be jealous of a friend of yours. Humans need multiple relationships to stay mentally and emotionally healthy. I would never want to wish that away from you.” Though the comment was obviously off track from what Dean had meant, like most times Cas didn’t understand the situation clearly, Dean shook his head in amusement, keeping the light in his eyes. 

As the time passed, Cas decided going to the bar, though it had seemed pointless at first, was a good idea. Not only because Dean was smiling and relaxed, leaning forward into Cas’s personal space, but also because Cas himself enjoyed the environment. 

For as unstable and unhealthy as Dean’s drinking problem was, it wasn’t violent. It was simply Dean’s way of coping with the unbearable amount of burden that had been placed on his shoulder. In fact, if Dean was drinking at a bar, that was usually better than drowning his misery alone. Being out meant Dean was either celebrating or relaxing. Which meant that when Cas joined them at a bar, it was generally in a relaxing atmosphere, leading to a positive association with such places, if not on a mental level, then certainly an emotional one. 

As they continued to enjoy each other’s company in the easy atmosphere, Cas became distracted by the frequent glances of the bartender. Now that he seemed to have no reason to come by the table, Mark had taken up the habit of staring when he could. 

“He stares at you a lot.”

Dean glanced over to the counter, his eyes meeting Mark’s. The other man winked, and to Cas’s surprise Dean didn’t sputter or act indignant. Instead, there may have been a coy grin before bringing those beautiful green eyes back to Cas. “Certainly not any more than you stare at me.”

Dean Winchester, by definition, was a flirt. This typically went for females, but Cas had learned enough of humanity to recognize the flirtations directed at men. Many, Cas had learned after the fact, directed towards him. Usually though, those type of flirtatious comments weren’t so brazen and out in the open. There was always a line. It was always simple in its teasing remarks, often combined with an edge of bitterness. 

Oh, Cas became suddenly aware. That’s what Dean’s earlier comment had been about. 

In the recess of his mind, the seconds that passed seemed much longer. Cas should take the opportunity of Dean being so relaxed and open. He should take advantage of these moments of coy smirks and gleaming, lingering looks. 

The angel had never bothered to hide how he felt about the hunter. Even Metatron had known only after meeting Cas for two days. But there was always something that kept him from pressuring the hunter for more attention. In the beginning it had been because he was too stuck in his angel programming to understand why he was willing to give up everything for this man. Then there were all the mistakes he had made that made Cas’s feelings, though now understood, no longer matter, for he no longer felt worthy of those feelings being reciprocated. 

Even now he couldn’t bring himself to think him and Dean could ever be more on a permanent basis. Yet, he was struggling with now, maybe he could have a little. 

“Ah,” Cas unsurely tried to counter, nervous about playing along now that he understood the game Dean was playing in his happily buzzed mind, “then I take back my earlier comment. If he is staring for the same reasons as I do, then I am jealous.”

Out of all the intense statements Cas had ever made, that had been the most intentionally bold. For a second, Dean just stared, mouth slightly ajar, a deep red blossoming in his cheeks and ears. Before Dean had the chance to process Cas’s flirtatious response and continue the playful banter, Sam came back to their booth, trying his best to hide a smile. One look at his brother had Dean shaking his head. “I think Sam wants to get us home so he can get out on his own.” So, leaving behind a generous tip, the two got up from the booth in perfect coordination, and into the impala. Sam dropped them off at the entrance of the bunker, asked Dean if he could borrow the impala, and, given a threatening warning, was off again. 

Allowing the drinking to continue despite the already buzzed hunter tied to Cas’s wrist probably wasn’t the best idea, but Cas yearned for the pleasant banter and lit green eyes stuck on him to continue. So, with a case of beer a bottle of whiskey just in case, the two settled on the couch, action movie playing in front of them. 

Cas waited for Dean to take up his earlier manner, but the flirting never came. He was calm, but that was it. There was just a comfortable silence between them. 

Frequently, Cas glanced over to see how his friend was faring after the evening at the bar, quietly pleased that the alcohol seemed to still have an influence over him. When it appeared, though, that Dean, despite being calm and relaxed, was not going to continue with their earlier state of being, Cas decided to slyly continue it himself. Throughout the movie, the angel subtly - at least that was what he thought he was doing - moved closer to the hunter. 

When his leg was close enough to Dean’s that they could both feel the barest tough, green eyes glanced briefly to the body slowly sinking into his side. Still, Dean made no moves. 

“These action scenes seem quite impossible for any normal human.” Cas observed blandly, knowing how amused Dean got when Cas commented on the shows they saw together, unlike Sam who got annoyed with the talking. 

“The ridiculous stunts is what makes a good action film,” Dean informed, friendly and warm, but lacking the flare that Cas wanted. “Who wants to watch action stuck in the laws of reality?”

“I don’t know,” Cas turned to stare at the side of Dean’s face. “I always found you in action to be something worthy to watch.” A blush spread across freckled cheeks, but instead of the coy retort that Cas was hoping for, Dean kept soft, chapped lips sealed to keep unwanted words inside. 

To Cas’s great disappointment, the movie ended, the beer finished with the whiskey untouched, and they headed to the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will start to get more heated from here.


	11. The Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After everything that has happened, there's finally some rest, and with that rest, some erotic dreams.

Dean had fallen asleep, his cheeks still flushed and a puff of steady air escaping parted lips. Once he knew the hunter was lost into his unconsciousness, Cas turned to watch him, as he had once watched over his charge long ago. It had once been a habit of simply making sure that the soul he had taken out of Hell was still safe. Then it had been because the human interested him, and when the hunter was awake staring too long was a taboo, unless he was being stared at just intently by the other, which was not always a good thing unfortunately. 

Cas hadn’t done it too often the last couple of years, not only because of difficulties of his grace or any of that, but also because his own emotions had changed. He could no longer stare at Dean for long without expressing the want he tried to hide. 

He knew Dean wanted him too, at least in some way, but it wasn’t something Cas had ever expected becoming more in the light of day. Just lingering touches, intense stares, and a bond that went past understanding. Maybe, on lucky night like this, there might even be teasing and hints at an intimacy that Cas would never be allowed to have. But it was never more than that. It had never been as rich as this night. Never so close to admitting to the truth that was between them.

The chain on Cas’ wrist pulled gently as Dean shuffled slightly, a small grin on his expression before settling back into the comfort of his mattress. Obviously enjoying a dream. Cas wondered if they were of the usual dreams that Dean had found pleasurable in the few nights that he was freed from the grips of nightmares. 

The angel was tempted to sink into Dean’s dreams to see for himself what pleasures Dean comforted himself with. It had been a long time since Cas had invaded Dean’s sleeping thoughts, and he knew doing such would not be welcome. However, he couldn’t help but feel, it would be something. 

And Cas needed something. He’d spent too many days tied to the object of his adoration, having to withstand the joy of being so close to him, along with the resentful treatment of a bitter friend. There were too many hours spent doing nothing except being confined by an active mind and angelic chains. There had been much torture having realized that he was being openly flirted with, only to have it end too soon.

Why had Dean been so open this evening, anyways? Especially considering the way their morning had gone. Or Dean’s meltdown the previous evening, completely defeated by a panic attack because of the intimacy they had been put into. Or, Cas pondered, not intimacy, but the humiliation. Not their closeness, but because of the implication of the leash.

Dean moaned before shifting further into the memory foam mattress. It was a sound that Cas’s vessel heating up and doing strange things. Things that, before the Reaper, would have confused the angel as to why it was happening to him. 

This was the first night since they had been chained together that Dean had dreamed of such things. Had dreamed at all, in fact. Was it because of the flirting and the teasing that had permeated the evening? If so, what was the exact details of the pleasurable dream? A random woman or women that he could either watch lustfully or ravish completely? Or would Dean’s subconscious be brave and more truthful than his waking self and instead dream of Cas?

Many minutes and too many distracting moans later, Cas came to the decision that set his vessel’s heart pounding. Knowing that Dean would be enraged if he were to be caught, but unable to control the urge, Cas closed his eyes and sank into his companion’s sleeping mind. It probably should have sent warning signs to Cas that his grace easily did so - a clear indication that Ishim approved of the invasion. 

Surprisingly, the scene of Dean’s dream wasn’t on the bed of a sleazy moral room or a bar with strippers. He was in the shower. In the dreamscape Cas concentrated on the hunter’s figure, the steam rolling off his heated body. Dean’s head was thrown back in pure ecstasy, his lips parted to release the deep, rumbled moans that he had no desire in holding back. 

Though Cas was aroused by the sight, he couldn’t understand what would be erotic about this to Dean. Then he caught the glimpse of strong hands on the hunter’s muscled shoulders, kneeling the flesh, gradually moving downwards. Invisible and all too interested, Cas kept his eyes on Dean’s pleased expression and the way the hands moved down a gorgeous body. 

He watched hungrily as one hand moved to the front to twist an already hard nipple. When the moan became crazed with need, his skin flushing not just from the hot water, the other hand went ever further down. Slowly, almost too slowly, that hand gently trailed against Dean’s lower abdomen and upper thighs before wrapping itself around a generous length. Dean’s breath hitched, his body backing into the body behind him, yearning for more contact and intimacy. 

Whoever Dean dreamed of (and Cas had a pretty good idea who it was despite the heavy steam in the way) took the hint. One hand continued to play with Dean’s nipples, twisting and pulling gently and then roughly, while the other hand rhythmically played with Dean’s hardness. All the while Dean moaned and gyrated against the body until the pleasure became too much and white, hot fluid was spilling over the hand to be quickly washed away by the heated water. 

Cas took himself out of the dream to “wake” beside Dean, his breath quick and wild. His chest pounded from the erotic sight he had witnessed. It only took a few seconds for Cas to take control of his breathing and become fully aware of himself. Dean was still sleeping beside him, comfortable and mentally sated. He was no longer moaning but he did have a small smile upon his lips. As for Cas, as angelic as he was, he was like a pubescent male with little experience when it came to pleasures of flesh. 

Cas’s sudden pull back into reality must have shifted the leash the tied them together, for it alerted the slumbering Dean who grumbled groggily, before blinking heavy eyelids awake. “Wha’s up?” He mumbled, seeming to think Cas’s unintentional jerking meant something was amiss.

“Nothing,” Cas answered too quickly. “I apologize.”

At that, Dean pushed himself onto his elbow to peer studiously at his friend. He studied Cas’s face, trying to gauge his expression before his gaze ultimately drifting across his body to take in any notice of other signs of distress. His lips formed an “oh” at the glimpse of Cas’s uncomfortable tension. 

For a few seconds, the atmosphere between them was tense. Then, still drowsy, Dean chuckled good naturally. “Dude, don’t worry about it. Happens all the time.” 

The statement didn’t make Case feel any better, and the angel just shifted uncomfortable, accidentally pulling on the leash of Dean’s neck, wanting nothing more than to fly away but unable to do so because of too many things wrong with him. 

“You could take care of it,” Dean mumbled, awake enough to be coherent but still caught in a groggy state. “Do you know how to take care of it? I could help you if you needed.” 

Cas beat red. He imagined what that help would include, and he wanted it very much, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept. Not when this was real and could mean much more than the dream he had just seen or the teasing at the bar. “Go to sleep Dean.” The soft command was obeyed without question or complaint, and soon the hunter was cuddled into the pillow, snoring soundly. 

The angel closed his eyes, though it wouldn’t be sleep he would escape into, embarrassed and overwhelmed. It was going to be a long day tomorrow.


	12. The Inevitable Outcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rowena's joined the cause to help (if not enjoying the boys' humiliation while she's at it). Cas and Dean are left alone in the bunker for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit longer than my usual chapters, but things are finally progressing to that inenvitable point.

Dean wasn’t sure when Sam came back from his overdue night out with Eileen, or when he had the time to call Rowena, but by four that following day she was at the front door of the bunker, impatiently waiting for access inside. 

“Dammit, Sammy. What are you thinking? Calling her without letting us know?”

“What are you talking about? We already discussed this? About how she was our best bet.”

 

Thankfully, Cas spoke before Dean could gather even more of his irritation and spit out unwarranted insults at his brother. “Dean,” he chided gently, “leave Sam alone. He’s trying to help.”

As rational as the scolding was, that in itself didn’t generally stop Dean’s impulse to rage. This time, however, the older Winchester couldn’t disregard what Cas had said. Whether he wanted to verbally attack Sam for the prospect of having Rowena show up without warning or not, Dean couldn’t. 

Instead, he pursed his lips together and glared at the witch. “What’s the catch?” He growled as she walked through the bunker like she owned the place. This time, Cas didn’t attempt to make him behave politely. His glare was just was heated as Dean’s. 

“Catch?” She smiled smugly. “No catch.”

Dean grit his teeth. “Spill it witch.” 

She laughed mockingly. “Oh dear boy, don’t worry your pretty little head, witnessing your humiliation will be payment enough. Now, let’s see that leash.” 

She waved her hand pretentiously in front of him and Cas, saying words Dean didn’t really understand. To his disgust, the chains became visible once more. One day of hidden troubles and it was already back in the light to taunt him along with the heavy weight at his neck.

The witch laughed with a wicked glint in her eyes. Dean tensed with rage, but again, Cas stopped him. “Dean, let’s wait for the witch to help us, and then you can do what you wish.”

“Ah, yes, excellent motivation, angel,” Rowena narrowed her eyes, but she seemed to be enjoying to sight before her too much to be dissuaded by their attitude and lack of tact. Turning her glare into a smirk, she asked in mock innocence, “So, I’m wondering how have you managed to go about your day as usual? Like, I don’t know, going to the restroom?”

Dean wanted nothing more than to spit out a nasty retort, but the words wouldn’t form, as if his subconscious self was fighting his conscious desire all because of the angel’s stern suggestion. 

Rowena sensed Dean’s internal struggle to keep his anger to himself, and she smiled in response. “Now, now,” she tsked, keeping her haughty gaze on the hunter. “If I’m going to help I think it’s only fair that I get the full story.”

Fortunately, or as fortunate as they could get right now, she was mostly just talk. She enjoyed their discomfort and thrived on their glares, knowing it meant no real danger to her at the moment, but she wasn’t about to waste too much of her time hearing details she didn’t actually want to hear. Selfish, immoral, and with an entirely evil soul, she was, above else, a woman of self-preservation. It may have taken two years, but she had finally accepted the wisdom that the Winchesters were people she should stay on the good of. Helping with this, she had figured, would be a decent start.

After a tense minute of her playing with the chain, gliding her long, delicate fingers up the leash with a curious and impressed eye. With a spark to her eyes as she inspected it, her fingers reached the end, the tips of her nails brushing against Dean’s neck. He stepped back harshly to discontinue to physical contact It probably hadn’t been the wisest reaction, since Cas was unaware of Dean’s impulse so when the hunter jerked back, the leash dug painfully at his throat.

“So,” he growled with a deep, threatening rumble, “can you help us or not?”

“Hmm…” she mused, bringing her hand back to herself, feeling no sense of danger despite his temper. “I might be able to. Though it might take a few days. I’ll need to get some ingredients.”

“What ingredients?” This time it was Cas that growled. 

“A black book for one.”

“No!” Dean ground out between clenched teeth. “You’re not using that damned book.”

“Oh, well then, in that case, it’ll take longer.” She smiled in all her fake sweetness she could muster, batting her eyes seductively. It was nauseating. “But maybe you two don’t actually mind, hmm? You two could get into all kind of kinky mischief while waiting.”

“Can you actually help them?” Sam sounded exhausted, cutting Dean and Cas off before losing their best chance by torturing or smiting her.

She rolled her eyes, giving a dramatic sigh. “You’re just no fun.” A cocky grin formed. “I do believe I can be of assistance to the lover boys. But I do need a book,” she held her hand against Dean. “It isn’t the Book of the Damned. I remember a book at the Covenant about angelic spells. Had thought it purely whimsical until I came face to face with an angel.”

“Exactly how long do you think it’ll take?”

“Well, I do have to find a way to sneak into the Covenant. They’re not exactly fond of me.”

“Can’t say I blame them.”

She continued as if he hadn’t said anything. “But I suppose it won’t be so terribly hard to get it. I did kill a quite a bit of them, so there won’t be too many to stop us.”

In end, Sam decided to escort her to where she needed to be, from getting the book to getting everything else that would be needed. 

Rowena had just smirked. “Of course, deary. I’m sure you want to give these two some alone time. It’s probably been very awkward for you here, poor thing.” She shooed Sam to get a move on, prepared to make her way out. 

“You could at least make it invisible until then.”   
“Ah, sorry, but no.” Her smile was too sweet. “You’ll have to wait until I get back. Though I personally think you should just leave it entirely.” Evil, evil eyes looked him up and down. “It just seems so you, doesn’t it, pet?” With a smirk and a knowing gaze, she left. “Have fun you two.”

“What a witch,” Dean cursed, glaring at the closing.

“I am sorry Dean.” Cas seemed to feel it necessary to say. 

Dean scoffed. “What do you have to apologize for?”

“For putting you through this situation in which we need Rowena’s assistance.”

The hunter huffed, twisted his lips, and finally gave a heavy sigh. “Nah man, this isn’t your fault. It’s Ishim’s.”

“But Ishim…”

“Isn’t not your fault.”

Dean made a grab for Cas’s hand so as to move them to the kitchen without upsetting the tight leash that bound them. It was nothing more than that - whatever sparks tingled up his fingers at the touch. 

“Where are we going?”

“I need a drink.” For a second it seemed like the angel wanted to lecture him about drinking too much, but then changed his mind and just went along without complaint or disapproval. 

“We should go to your room,” Cas suggested when they moved out of the kitchen in sync with bottles in hand. 

“Why? The couch’s right there. And Sam’s not here to complain about what we watch.”

“Yes, but your bed is more comfortable.”

Dean hesitated. Sleeping together was one thing. It was necessary. It wasn’t like Dean could just go without sleeping at all during this time. Even disappearing into his room while Sam was here was necessary, a means to escape further embarrassment. To do so now, though, seemed like they were about a cross a line. 

Because Cas saying he’d rather be on the bed - his bed - had a way of heating his skin with unwanted images. Images of activities that Rowena had brought to mind with her teasing remarks. Of seeing Cas in a way that Dean had tried too hard to vanquish over too many years. 

It was also too much in that even just thinking about Cas back in his bed was bringing to mind being woken early in the morning to the sight of Cas sprouting a boner. Which, in the erotic sight that had he been privy, led to the memory of his dream. When the dream came unbidden to his thoughts in his awakened state, Dean wanted nothing more than to believe that it had been because of Ishim’s damn ‘pet’ spell. It was stupid to lie to himself. 

The truth was, Dean didn’t need to be tied to Cas to make him dream about the angel. It just made everything more complicated. 

“Dean?” Cas brought him out of his hesitancy. “Your room.” Which, said like that, as if it were more of an order than a request, Dean couldn’t doing anything but do as he wanted. 

As they settled onto Dean’s bed, the laptop at their feet, the hunter hoped they could watch Doctor Sexy in comfortable silence. He tried to tell himself that Sam was sure that the curse that had been placed on him and Cas would be lifted soon. Soon, he wanted to believe, this wouldn’t be an issue. 

Except, it would seem that cas wasn’t in the mood for silence. “Dean, I don’t think I mentioned it last night, but I did enjoy going out to the bar with you. It was surprising pleasant. I am glad that you had the idea to do so.”

Dean felt his body become too warm at the uncharacteristic way Cas mentioned his previous behavior. He did his best to shake the discomfort away to chuckle, “Yea, you certainly looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

Intense blue eyes looked at him, staring too long into his soul before stating, “You appeared to be enjoying yourself as well.” Dean swallowed; Cas blinked. “I wish we had more chances for you to be like that.”

“Uh, well, you know…”

“Yes Dean, I know.”

They watched their shows, drank their beer, and settled into an awkward stillness between them that, though heavy, was better than the resentment or agitation that had been popping up too often since the curse had been cast. 

“Would you like to do something else?” Cas wondered when he began to feel the consistent tug on his wrist. “Maybe go outside like before? No one would see us and you could stretch your legs.”

Dean shook his head. “I just want this over with. Get these freakin’ things off so we can go back to normal.”

For some reason Cas became timid, which made Dean feel even more uncomfortable than before. Then he was asking softly and carefully, “Is all of this so bad?”

It didn’t matter how meek he made the words. Dean glared and sneered, “I can’t see what’s exactly good about this.”

Though Cas had once been known for keeping an indifferent expression, in recent years he had a way of looking like the saddest puppy without much change to the muscles of his face. It was a sadness that pooled most greatly in blue eyes. The look made Dean’s chest ache and he was tempted to take back what he had said, but the problem was that he had a hard time staying rational when things became as awkward as this. Raising his voice and shifting to glare more fully at Cas, he questioned, “What on earth could you possibly see as good about any of this?” 

Before he could gather more energy to rage, Cas was sternly telling him to listen, an order that Dean couldn’t help but obey. “It has made us talk about our problems.” Dean wanted to scoff at that. The idea of talking out his issues like girl, or like Sam, but he didn’t. “And it has helped. It has forced us to deal with these things head on, and I believe we are better for it having happened. I, for one, hope that when the chains are broken, we can continue to talk out our internal struggles as we have done so recently.”

Again, Dean wanted to argue, to deny that their ‘chick-flick’ moments had been beneficial it either of them, but he couldn’t voice any of his mental disregards. He just settled for glaring at the screen while he was forced to listen quietly.

Cas stared at the hunter who had turned his glare away from him. The sadness in his eyes stayed. “Dean,” he pressed gently, “can you honestly say nothing good has occurred during the past fews days?” Obviously, he was fishing for something, trying to work through some thought process that had been bothering him during the duration of the curse, but Dean wouldn't budge. “Dean, think. Name at least one thing that has made this experience not as bad as it could have been.”

What should have left his lips was the mocking remark that the whole “positive outlook” thing only worked on hippies, but instead, what escaped was. “I like that you’ve been here.”

It was a response that Cas obviously hadn’t been expecting, though Dean couldn’t say what Cas had been expecting. The angel stared at him with widened eyes, some kind of understanding sinking in, but also unable to catch the heart of the statement. “I’m always here for you.”

“Not when I need you.”

Another awkward silence permeated the room where Cas just stared at Dean with scrunched brows. “Dean?”

It sounded like an invitation to speak his mind to speak his mind, but now that Dean could feel the words about to leave his mouth. He didn’t want to say anything. 

With the continued silence, Cas’s scrunched eyebrows became narrowed eyes. He looked like he was reading his mind, but Dean was pretty sure he had lost that exact power, or at the very least, had learned that it was rude and would get a cold shoulder if found out. Unsure with his findings, Cas observed in a tone of uncertainty. “You would want me to stay here more often?”

Dean couldn’t even believe it was something that needed to be said. He rolled his eyes. “Yea, Cas, I’d like you to actually stick around without flying off the second you find something better to do.” Like going behind his back to work with Crowley, or vanishing the moment he was free from Purgatory, or going off on solo missions because he didn’t want Dean and Sam to get in his way, or letting Lucifer possess him and then thinking he had to be the only one to rid the world of him. 

Suddenly, though, all those bitter thoughts were washed away at the hurt and fury in Cas’s expression. Dean cursed himself for being so stupid and careless. 

“Dude, I didn’t mean…”

 

“I understand Dean.” His voice was too cold. Too stale. 

“No man, I swear, I didn’t mean to bring up your wings. It’s just an expression. A stupid one.” 

Dean was babbling and it wasn’t helping. In fact, it seemed to be making things worse, if the flickering lights were anything to go by. The air vibrated with an angry and pained energy, bursting at the seams. 

The hunter found himself in yet another uncomfortable position. On one hand, he had a badass angel losing his control with Dean as his focal point, with both of them sitting there awkwardly on the bed. It was a position that left Dean completely at the angel’s mercy, and it made him feel utterly defenseless if Cas should decide to become turn his hurt to nothing but rage. On the other hand, Dean did always have an unhealthy attraction to the prospect of being manhandled ever since...well, most significantly, since having a fully powered angel showing off his shadowed wings and stalking towards him in a barn that shook with thunder.

Then the phone was buzzing on the stand next to the bed and everything became still. 

Nervous, Dean grabbed for the device. It was Sam of course, informing him that everything was fine for the moment, if not counting the fact that he was about to lose his mind being partnered with Rowena for so long. They were about to get the book and Sam needed to give Dean coordinates and a time limit just in case something went wrong, though apparently it didn’t appear likely. 

“How are things there?” 

“Fine.” 

“Uh, huh.”

From Sam’s end of the line, Dean (and Cas) could hear Rowena add, “They could always just sleep with each other. Getting rid of that sexual tension might help things.” Dean hung up so he wouldn’t have to listen to anything more. 

“Look Cas,” he tried now that the tension had left the room for the most part, “I really didn’t mean what I said. All I meant was that…”

“That I don’t do enough for you,” Cas finished blandly, not angry, but defeated. 

“Woah. Where did that come from? I certainly didn’t say that. I just wish you were here more.”

They stared at each other, Cas glaring and Dean looking imploringly. It was one of those intense stares, the ones that Dean knew his pain in the ass brother termed “eye-sex” and that he did his best to ignore. The moment lasted well into a minute, maybe even more. Finally, Cas’s blue eyes softened. Letting go of his warrior demeanor, he became once more the angel that had been crafted by years of exposure to humanity. 

It looked like he wanted to bow his head in a display of regret and depression, but kept himself from doing so at the last moment. “Of course. I...I understand.” Except, Dean was beginning to notice in the subtle contours of his face, that he didn’t understand. Like he was at a loss as to why Dean would want Cas around more.

Upon realizing what that look meant, Dean hated himself more than he usually did. Because, if that’s what Cas truly thought, then it was no one but Dean to be blamed. And who could count it against Cas? Afterall, when Cas had needed him most, Dean had pushed him away. 

Before Dean could find the words to attempt to make things right, Cas was saying, “I apologize for losing control. I suppose I get emotional about my wings.”

“Yea, that’s um, that’s understandable,” Silence followed. Awkwardness ensued. “Man, I feel like these past few days have been like a soap opera.”

“But not entirely bad,” Cas was rephrasing, clearly hoping for a different response now. 

Dean was man enough this time around to agree, “Uh, yea, not all bad.”

“For example, last night was very good.”

Dean smiled, glad to be getting away from the uncomfortable tension. “Yea, I enjoyed it too.”

Cas nodded, apparently easing himself into what he wanted to say next. Slowly, carefully, he added, “I like when you allow yourself to act on…” he trailed off, not confident enough to continue with the word. It’s not like he had to continue anyways. Dean got the message. His face heated. 

Seeming to come to some sort of conclusion, Cas moved his face closer to Dean’s, beginning to close his eyes in anticipation. Knowing where this was going, and not sure if he was ready, Dean scooted away. The leash became taut and blue eyes opened. “Dean. Stay still.” And, because Dean couldn’t do anything but obey these past few days, he did. Not a moment later, cracked lips touched his own.


	13. Chapter 13

The kiss as chaste and innocent at first, with Cas doing the kissing and Dean doing the receiving. But then Cas had seemed to have enough with sweet and innocent, and he pressed himself harder into the hunter, positioning himself practically on top of him. He attempted to pry apart chapped lips to seek the warmth of his mouth, and was pleased when Dean obliged. He was also pleased to find that Dean was responding in other ways. Dean’s whole body was flushed as Cas became encouraged enough to place himself completely on the hunter’s lap, resting the hand that had the chain attached to the wrist next to Dean’s neck. 

Then a loud vibration interrupted Cas from doing anything more. 

Cas reluctantly pulled away to allow Dean to answer the phone, watching anxiously as he talked to Sam. In the stillness that Cas had to endure during that time, his actions caught up to him. 

What had he just done? Had he just risked everything for one impulsive moment of feeling Dean on his lips? Had he just ruined everything for going after this sensation?

He hadn’t meant to. At least, he hadn’t planned on it. He had just wanted to to enjoy his time with Dean in the familiar comfort like he had at the bar. Cas hadn’t expected it to be that hard though. He kept trying to recreate the atmosphere between them of the previous night...and failing. And images of the dream he had witnessed kept coming to mind, making being so close to the hunter an uncomfortable feeling (though certainly not bad). Then his emotions were spiraling out of control when Dean refused to accept that something good had occurred between them, beginning to doubt his understanding of Dean, or, more likely, that the green-eyed hunter had led him on. But then, just as he was about to lose control, Dean admitted a truth that had been side-stepped for years: he wanted Cas beside him more often.

The emotional whirlwind was too much for Cas, and he found that he couldn’t handle it. Something needed to happen, or he was going to lose it completely. If he lost it completely, he had a strong feeling, unfortunately, that Dean would take the brunt of it. 

He had stared into Dean’s eyes to gauge his sincerity, the intensity of emotion. Then he thought he found his answer, and he took his chance. He moved in for a kiss.

It had been amazing - finally being able to act upon something that had been building and changing him for years - but now he was beginning to question that decision. 

“What the hell was that?”

“A kiss.”

Dean laughed that harsh, curt laughter that meant he was caught between amusement and frustration. “Yea...yea, that I got.”

Uneasy and a little scared that he had made a terrible mistake, Cas blurted out, “I saw what you had been dreaming about.”

The hunter’s face turned red. “You saw my…” he paused, his thoughts too crazy, “They’re just dreams, you know, I mean, they don’t mean what they, it’s...I, I mean…”

“Dean.” Cas couldn't allow him to continue to babble. “It’s okay.”

Green eyes were wide with panic. “No,” he tried to deny, but Cas kept hope in that he didn't sound angry. “Look Cas, I’m sorry, but it was just a dream.”

Cas couldn’t accept that. Actually, he knew for a fact that Dean did feel that way about him. He had admitted it, hadn’t he? He had shown it. All the hunter needed to do was come to terms with that. Which, after all that Cas had to put up with lately, he knew he couldn’t go any further with Dean lying to the both them. “Be honest, please Dean. For once.”

Dean glared and grit his teeth, but answered, “I might...I don’t…” he bowed his head, the words seeming to be unable to pass his lips. It was almost sad, seeing him struggle to process how he felt.

Pitying the man, Cas slowly moved in closer so as to give the chance to escape if he still needed to, but didn’t. His lips touched Dean’s again. 

For a brief moment, it was like before, with Dean too stunned to do anything but accept, but eventually he began to kiss back. It was gentle and slow, careful in its endeavors, which was so unlike the hunter who proudly exuded sex appeal, but Cas was too overjoyed at the retaliation to give it much thought. 

He couldn’t believe this was actually happening, that he had his hunter beneath him, accepting his affections and giving some in return. With Dean under his fingertips and his lips, all the turmoil that had pledged his grace not only these past few days of being chained to the volatile human but the last eight years quieted. 

He could hear Dean’s heart thump soundly beneath him, and it was, as he had heard be said, “music to his ears”. Keeping the hand that was chained by the side of Dean’s face, he used his other hand to skim down the hunter’s chest until finally stopping at the sharp juncture of his hip. With a little more strength, he pressed down to keep Dean mostly in place as he lavished him with the attention that was long overdue. 

As expected, the show of strength in such a situation had an arousing effect on the usually macho hunter who moaned into the open mouthed kisses. Encouraged by the sounds, Cas moved his lips away from Dean’s to make his way down his neck - careful to avoid the leash - and down his chest. 

Dean Winchester had the tendency of wanting to come off as strong, independent, and very much a badass warrior, and did a very sufficient job in doing so. However, Cas had always known about the underlying want to just give up all control, to let someone that he trusted to completely to take care of him. It was a part of Dean that Cas always accepted as well. Though he had never taken advantage of that knowledge until now, he was al too aware of the hunter’s need.

Still, knowing this about the man beneath, he was aware of his stubbornness, and therefore kept an ear out for any sounds that were anything but consenting, or any non verbal signs that would notify him that he needed to stop. Until that came, Cas would continue his enjoyment in his exploration of the man’s glorious body.

When he reached the edge of Dean’s plaid button up shirt, Cas used his teeth to raise it enough to expose his muscles and yet wonderfully soft stomach and strong chest. Dean groaned senselessly, bringing his head back to expose his chained neck subconsciously. He was rewarded by Cas bringing his mouth to Dean’s left nipple, teasing it with gentle bites until it was hardened, and then moving on top the right. 

In response to the ministrations, Dean’s hips tried to buck upwards, seeking friction for what was becoming an impressive bulge, but Cas stilled his attempt with one bruising grip. The sound that escaped Dean’s lips were close to a whimper, though Cas knew that the man would never admit it, and Cas smirked against his skin. 

He concentrated on Dean’s nipples for a long, excruciating minutes, pleased with Dean’s reactions, until finally lowering himself fully onto the body beneath him, pressing their clothed erections together. Both moaned at the contact. 

It was clear that by then Dean was completely lose to the sensations of being manhandled and given such affections. Every response given was once encouraged by sense alone rather than any form of sensible thought. 

Dean was absolutely beautiful like this, all defenses down. His freckled skin was flushed, with a slight sheen of sweat. A musky, lovely scent of whiskey, apples, and leather encaptured all of the angel’s senses. 

Cas kissed further down Dean’s chest, rutting against the human as he did so, but even he couldn’t take the teasing anymore. With extremely talented teeth, he unbuttoned Dean’s jeans. 

Down the hall, a door opened and footsteps sounded throughout the bunker. Their voices rose indistinguishable to Dean’s bedroom. Below him, Dean froze. Reluctantly, and very much annoyed, Cas removed himself from the paralyzed hunter, and used his free hand to quickly make Dean presentable again. 

Right on que, Sam called for the two of them, “Dean! Cas! We’re back!” Upon hearing his brother, Dean shook himself out of his frozen state, and they calmed themselves before going to meet Sam and Rowena. 

They had a book laid out on the table with two dove feathers, crushed rose petals, and an iron short sword. “This all we need then?” Dean did a good job in masking their previous activities. “Didn’t take you long at all. Nice.”

“Yea,” Sam looked sheepish, an expression Cas had learned to mean that what he had to say to Dean wasn’t particularly good news, and though it may not have have been his fault, he worried about his response. “Actually, we need one more thing that might be problematic in getting.”

“And what’s that?”

“The grace and blood of the spell worker.”

“Ishim,” Dean growled. “Fine, I don’t mind making that dick bleed.”

“But that does mean we have to find him first,” Cas had to remind, because Dean had the habit of getting a head of himself. “And that might prove to be difficult.” As he already knew it to be. 

“Not necessarily,” Rowena cut in, “I’ve been informed that he’s been keeping a link open between you and him. If that’s true, then when it’s open again, I could trace it.”

Instinct had Dean glaring at the witch for just talking, but he bit down any nasty remark he might have otherwise said. “Well then, good. Good.” It was tense and brittle, but better than what could have been. 

Yet still Sam kept his uneasy expression and posture. “Sam?” Cas questioned. “What is it?”

“Um, well, it turns out that, uh, that the leash,” he winched at the word, knowing how much his brother hated all this, “that it um…”

“That it makes Dean even more of your pet than what it appears,” Rowena finished with an amused smirk.

Cas glared at the smirk more than the words, but Dean paled. “What does that mean?” There was unnerved worry in his voice that ran much more than fury. It was as if Dean had an inkling as to what else was happening to him, but he didn’t have the ability to put it into words. Tension wracked his entire body, set on edge by what they were about to hear.

With a sickening smile, Rowena explained, “It would appear that whenever you,” she batted her eyes at Cas, “give an order, lover boy here had to obey.” Her eyes redirected to Dean, roaming her eyes over his body. “Just like a good little pet.”

Enraged, Dean clenched his fists, pale with jaws tightened. When Rowena had the gall to wink seductively at him, he lost it. He made a move to punch her, but the chain choked him back, more roughly than the other times before, bruising his neck as it pulled him away from Rowena and into Cas. Cas brought out his hands to steady the man, but it was the wrong move to make. The touch shocked Dean, and he pushed away from Cas harshly.

The angel watched his hunter with the pit in his vessel’s gut churning violently. Dean had been in fighting mode, but in his inability to actually fight, he was left to slowly descend into a state of panic. 

He couldn’t think of any other time he had hated the witch more than this, with her smiling at Dean’s humiliation. Not willing to let his friend suffer her presence any longer, he grabbed Dean’s hand and teleported them to the garage. 

“Dean,” Cas tried to break the man out of his overwhelming thoughts, but was unsure of what to say. 

“Don’t,” came the broken reply, almost like a plea, his gaze lowered and his breathing becoming erratic. 

He was on the verge of breaking into a full panic attack, and Cas had no clue on how to help him through it. The last panic attacked Dean had, Cas realized, had been soothed because Cas had given Dean instructions to breath and to rest. 

Which then led Cas to realize all the other times he had said to Dean these past few days that had been uncharacteristically listened to without complaint. He remembered how odd he had found Dean’s actions at such times, but had pushed the thought away and continued on, not seeming to care that he was acting like himself. 

When he had told Dean to eat with his mouth closed, Dean had done so. At being told that he shouldn’t drink so early in the moving, the beer had been placed back into the fridge without a word. Whenever Cas had told him to stop and listen, Dean had been forced to just stand there and keep his mouth shut. Every little thing Cas had said, from suggesting that Dean behave and polite, to breathing when he was about to go into full blown panic, ot to listen and wait, Dean had done so because he had no choice. 

Knowing all this, how could Cas say anything? Even if it was meant to help the agitated hunter, it would only be making things worse for the already emotional man. 

Then something much more damaging occurred to Cas. It wasn’t just small orders that Cas had unintentionally had Dean follow through with. Just minutes ago Cas had told Dean to stop moving away from his advances having thought it to be a strong suggestion for Dean to accept what they both knew he wanted. But if Dean had had no choice, it didn’t matter whether or not it was what he truly desired.

Had anything that had transpired between them been consensual?


	14. Tracking Ishim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Dean and Cas deal with the repercussions of finding out the leash's full extent on Dean, the angel must pray to Ishim in order for Rowena to track him.

In tense, stifling silence, Dean found himself leaning his back against the door of his baby with Cas standing precariously beside him, as far away from the hunter as the leash would allow without strain on either part. Time slowed to an unbearable speed that was suffocating both them: Dream from barely contained panic and Cas from intolerable guilt and regret. 

Cas had done many unforgivable things in the past, things that still haunted him and those around him, but those mistakes had been made from misguided, but good intentions. It was that sense of good intentions that allowed the angel to keep moving on, and had Dean eventually welcoming him back into the fold of the Winchester family, no matter how angry he was at his friend. 

This was something entirely different. What had transpired between them, the trauma that now racked Dean to a state of silent turmoil, had happened because Cas had been ignorant of his friend’s uncharacteristic behavior and selfish in going after what he wanted. 

Moment continued to pass in stillness. The atmosphere in the garage was staunch with distress and self-depreciation. 

Cas gave an uneasy glance down at the hunter. There was no anger or that fighting fury that the man was so well known for, and that was what made that situation that more worrisome. It was when Dean was silent that those around him truly had something to worry about, because it meant one of two things. Either it was the calm before the raging storm, or he was wallowing into a depression that would be too deep to securely get him out of. 

This was usually when Dean would succumb to the end of a bottle for all the wrong reasons, push away those that he loved and who loved him in return, and go off on dangerous cases with little care for his well-being. 

Cas couldn’t fathom what Dean would do now that he didn’t have the chance to down his usual self-destructive route, and there was a part of the angel that, while he was relieved that the hunter wouldn’t harm himself in these times, was apprehensive about what unpredictable thing Dean would do instead. Still chained to Castiel, the current object of his crushing self worth and will, there was no telling what the man would do in his spiral of hatred and panic. 

All he would have to do was wait and act accordingly to whatever Dean decided to do. 

As an angel, Cas was hardly a good judgement of time. Seconds passes by too slowly, a human minute unbearably long compared to the indistinguishable time of Heaven. What he did know was that they had been in the garage, stuck in suffocating silence, long enough that Sam was now pacing a few feet from the door, anxiously fighting back the urge to check in on his brother. Knowing that if they stayed much longer that Sam would plow through the door with bull headed determination - the type of stubbornness that he was sure the younger brother had gained from watching over Dean in their younger years -, and knowing that the prescience of his little brother would not help Dean’s state of mind, Cas had to break the tension somehow. Even if that meant he’d be using the wrong words and/or insuring the hunter’s rage. 

“I’m sorry Dean,” the powerful, ancient voice of the angel sounded defeated and sincerely miserable, as it often did when he believed that he had disappointed his adored human. “I didn’t know. You have to believe me. I would never take away your free will. It is one of the things about you that I…”

“I know,” Dean cut him off, stiffening at his words. Cas had prepared himself for the barrage of rants and insults, or the possible physical altercation. This time he would gladly accept the verbal or physical beatings, knowing that he deserved it. To his surprise, Dean too a deep breath to sigh out softly, “I know it’s not your fault Cas.”

Though the statement came as a reassurance, it was also disheartening. It was like Dena had accepted his loss of free will in this and was on his way to losing his will in general. The reaction was so unlike Dean that Cas worried that lasting effects had been put into play. 

“And I promise you, we are going to hunt down my brother and fix this.”

“Yea, I know we will,” but despite what he was saying, he didn’t sound confident. That, or he didn’t have the energy to care about it at this particular moment. 

Unsurely, Cas tried to speak again in an attempt to get rouse Dean from his prone state against the impala. “Dean, Sam is just outside the door. He is thinking about coming in to se if you’re okay.”

At his feet, Dean gave another deep, laboring sigh before finally pushing himself up. Within a second, the mask of steeliness replaced the expression of defeat. 

When Cas knew for certain that Dean was prepared to face his brother, they started their way back into the bunker. As Cas had senses, Sam was just on the other side, pacing and looking worried. “Dean. Cas.” Though he was aware of the tension that still persisted between them, he looked relieved that they had finally come out. Forcing aside the awkwardness of knowing the leash’s full extent on Dean, Sam stated evenly, “Rowena’s ready to track Ishim when you are.”

Cas nodded in understanding and determination. Taking an almost non-existent lead, he walked slowly into the library where the witch was perusing the bookshelves. “Exactly what do I need to do?” 

“Just call out to him. Try to keep in contact long enough for me to get a sense of where he is. Once I get an energy signature on him, I can lead you to wherever he ends up going.” She paused in thought. “Unless he goes to Heaven. Then I can’t help you.” 

“No. He would not return to Heaven. He’d be too obsessed with Lily to leave now that she had made a reappearance in his life.” For Cas knew his brother, always fixated on tying up loose ends before moving on.

“Right.” Cas closed his eyes to prepare himself to establish a connection with his misguided brother. Ishim, he thought, or more appropriately, prayed. Ishim. No response came back. 

He wondered how the connection had gone through the last time. What had he done? What had Ishim done? 

It had been an accident last time, hadn’t it? The result of Ishim’s ploys, manipulating the small link he could manage through the cursed chains. Irritated, because he knew Ishim could hear his prayers, he opened his eyes to see Dean watching him intently while the other two busied themselves at the table. “Would you mind if we sit down?”

Dean rose an eyebrow. “You think it will help?”

“Possibly. I can’t seem to relax.” 

“Right. Yea. Of course.” So they took a seat on the other end of the table from Rowena and Sam and Cas tried again. 

Gathering his thoughts and the fuel needed to confront Ishim, he prayed angrily, I do not appreciate this Brother. Making Dean like this. To have to deal with this. After all that the Winchesters already dealt with, Ishim’s ‘prank’ was too much.

Laughter echoed in his head, Ishim’s cruel response. Come now, Castiel. You enjoyed it.

No, Cas denied vehemently, glad that Dean could hear their mental conversation. I have already told you that is not how I want my bond with Dean to be like. 

Ishim sneered, Your bond? What bond? The one that made the nightly Castiel fall so far from Heaven? I told you before, humans have a way of making us weak. Best to put them in their place before that happens. Or in your case, since you’ve already fallen face first in the mud with these monkeys, the least that can be done is punish those that dared belittle the power of an Angel of the Lord.

No, Cas stated again with resolved. You have it wrong. Dean does not deserve to be punished. A fact he wholeheartedly believed, no matter what the aggressive, impulsive hunter got himself into. I may have fallen, but it wasn’t because of him. It was my own choices. My own misguidance that led me astray, just as it had been yours. 

He hoped Rowena would have that tracking spell completed soon, not wanting to participate in the conversation any longer than he had to. 

It was because of them! Ishim shouted back in venom. Really Castiel, how pathetic can you be? To be so blinded in your obsession over this ‘human’ that you can’t even see his flaws and wrongdoings.

That’s not true. I see him for exactly who he is: a nearly broken, alcoholic man with anger issues who can be obnoxious, selfish, and idiotic. He has tortured souls in Hell, has made one bad deal after another. Had hurt those closest to him, and has too much to apologize for. He realized he was ranting, getting upset as he kept going, and he had to force himself to stop. I know his flaws. 

It didn’t matter what others thought about his loyalty to the Winchesters, specifically Dean, and whatever or not he had traded in his devoted to his father to the Righteous Man. The truth was, Cas had always been acutely aware of Dean’s rough spots, but the hunter had always done or said something to show the angel that he so much more than those hard edges. That, and Dean’s soul burned so bright, that no matter what happened, he just kept shining. 

But I also know him to be passionate, righteous, the most loyal being in the universe, and protective. Not to mention the other things about Dean that made him Dean, the music, the jokes, the grins, the flirting. 

From the other side of the mental link Cas could feel Ishim’s disapproval, so strong that it had long ago turned to loathing. Angry now by how Cas continued to defend the hunter, he sneered, I’m past caring about what you think you ‘feel’, he used the word like a curse, Either you accept my gracious gift brother, or I’ll be happy to see the mud monkey dead for all the harm he has caused you and our kind. 

Before Cas retaliated with equal anger - never one to allow a threat towards a Winchester go off to the side - he was being roused back to awareness. “Rowena’s got the link.”


	15. Dean's Thoughts

Sometimes Dean wished his life was more like an action action movie rather than the shitshow reality it was. Because if he was in action movie, it would be nothing but one basis moment to the next, never having to endure the awkward tension that tended to fill the time in between.

For example, the car ride getting Ishim...indescribable awkwardness. Sam was driving, trying to keep his eyes on the road, but failing every few minutes when his gaze would unintentionally look in the rearview mirror. Rowena was riding shotgun, smirking the entire time, enjoying how uncomfortable everyone else was. Dean and Cas had no choice but to sit side by side together in the back seat, both facing away from each other. The leash weighed down on both of them.

Dean’s tense silence was for obvious reasons. It was unlikely that anyone would expect Dean to speak out loud until the leash was gone for good, too embarrassed by certain facts being brought to light.

He had known something had been off about him within that first day of getting back to the bunker. It didn’t take a genius to realize that every time Cas gave an order, he had been held captive by a force that made him obey. At first Dean had thought it was the same instinct he had when Cas had put his wings on display as proof, or when he had threatened to drag him back to Hell. Truth was, there was always that slight tremor or shiver when Cas decided to show off just how strong and powerful he truly was, a feeling that made Dean want to do as the angel said. 

Except, for the last couple of years - ever since the Leviathans really - Dean had kept that urge in check. So when Cas did use his Angel of the Lord voice, rare as it had become, the hunter forced himself to snap back until he had time to process what needed to be done. 

Stop, when Dean couldn’t help but bite back an angry retort to simply do as Cas had said, he was reasonably unsettled. When he realized that it wasn't just old instincts coming back but something that was forcibly keeping him from even questioning the angel, he became panicked. A panic he hadn’t even been able to voice aloud. 

Maybe that, along with all the other shit he had dealt with since Ishim, was one of the reasons that he had been a typhoon of emotions as of late. 

Yet, even while Dean fumed at the humiliation at being made a ‘pet’ outside and in, he silently sympathized with Cas who starred out the window away from the hunter. Cas, always so sincere and well-intentioned, even when making the worst possible mistakes, was sitting there regretting every single second that they had spent together on that bed because of the revelation of the leash’s spell had him thinking that Dean hadn’t wanted it. 

When really, the truth was clear. There hadn’t been an order that Cas had given the last few days that Dean hadn’t, deep down, wanted to obey. There hadn’t been a single order that hadn’t been for the best. Those times when Cas told him to stop and listen; it had kept Dean from being the dick he always resorted to when in a bad situation, and it had allowed for the air between them to finally to be cleared. When Cas had told him to hold off on drinking, to calm down to breath, they had been the right thing to do.

And when they had been on his bed waiting for Sam to call with good news, it was Cas’ stern command that had Dean finally admitting what he should have admitted long ago. He wanted Cas to stay. Not because he needed his grace or his angelic experience, but because he needed Cas - just Cas - period. 

So maybe, if Dean hadn’t been given the choice, he wouldn’t have gone through with any of it. He wouldn’t have confessed his desire for Cas to stay while they lay on his bed. He wouldn’t have allowed the angel to kiss him like he meant everything, and he definitely wouldn’t have accept being straddled and grinned against by another man. But, as time had proven over and over again, Dean rarely accepted the things he truly wanted. 

Which was why, in the awkward silence of the car, Dean wished he could just man up and reassure Cas that it was okay. That they were okay. Not just that he didn’t blame Cas for the leash or any part of the spell connected to it, but that what had happened between them hadn’t been one-sided. That beneath the repression and denial, Dean had wanted it too. 

But he couldn’t; not with his brother and an annoying witch in the front seat and the leash still firmly attached around his neck. Sincere assurances would have to wait until after. Then maybe, Dean was beginning to think, he could finally get his head out of his ass and stop denying what was between them. Because honestly, that scene in the bedroom, after the initial shock and instinct to pull away had quieted, it had been amazing. 

Dean gave a sidewise glance to the stoic angel by his side, feeling the stirrings in his chest that he often got at the sight of him. It was a sensation he had tried very hard to ignore since that thunderous evening in the barn, and knew there had been plenty of times he had failed in hiding that fact. There had certainly been plenty of nights where he had failed. 

So maybe it was a good thing that things were finally coming out in the open. Or at least, they could be once this damn leash was gone. 

“Why are we stopping?” His thoughts haunted as he realized his baby was being pulled into a nearly empty parking lot of a Motel 6. 

Sam gave a sympathizer sigh. “Because we’ve been driving for 9 hours, we still have 2 more to go, and it’s already 10pm. I’m guessing we need to be well rested when fighting Ishim. I already contacted Lily. She’ll meet us in the morning and we’ll head out, ready to go.”

“But what if he leaves before we get there?” Dean was getting back to the energy to panic once more, his rage close to boiling over because of it. “The guy does have wings! It’s bad enough we wasted this much time.”

Finally, Cas came out of his stupor to state stoically, “He won’t leave. Lily wounded him too much, and he’s wasting too much grace keeping in contact with me.”

Dean huffed. “Sounds like a shot in the dark to me.”

“Better than nothing,” Sam replied before leaving to pay for rooms. When he came back, he had two key cards, an irritated look in his expression, the one that tried to hide his annoyance. He got into the car without a word and drove to the black so they were closest to the rooms. “We’ll leave around 4, okay? Lily says she’ll be here by then.”

“Doesn’t seem like enough for a beauty sleep,” Rowena complained as she got out, but didn’t say anything more when Sam glared, following after him. 

“Remind me to thank Sam later for getting her out of our hair,” Dean muttered, pitying his little brother. Cas said nothing. 

The coast completely clear, they slid out of the car slowly, careful to not pull unnecessary on the chain, as impossible as the move was. 

Inside the motel room, Dean huffed in frustration. “Really thought we could just get this over with,” he groaned. To him, the silence was always the worst thing. It gave him too much time to think, and that was never a good thing. As long as he could complain, he had the slightest thought that he’d be okay. Or at least as okay as he ever was. “But I guess that was just wishful thinking.”

Again, Cas refrained from speaking. He just stood by the hunter’s side wearing that stoic mask that had long since proven to be just that, a mask. 

This time huffing inwardly, Dean led to two of them to the edge of the bed, debating what to do. He wasn’t tired, and if they lay on the bed all it would do would lead to awkward silence of staring at the ceiling, sensing the warm body close by but too chicken shit to do anything about it.

Not that Dean would do anything now even if he was brave enough. After Sam and Rowena’s reveal, Dean doubted Cas would believe anything he did while on the leash was sincerely him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of action, and for the long wait. Fight will be next chapter, and the smut come soon after that.


	16. Chapter 16

As Sam mentioned, Lily arrived at the motel just a little before four, going straight to Cas and Dean’s room. Scoffing subtly to express her annoyance at the witch’s interference with her work, Lily made the leash invisible once more so they were able to leave the room without drawing attention. Dean thanked her sincerely while Cas himself remained quiet. 

“If you can help me get rid of Ishim we’ll call it even,” she spoke softly and strictly to Dean. 

The drive to their destination was just as awkward as the day before, if not more so with the fifth body joining them, and Cas spent the entire time staring out the window wishing he could simply fly to where they needed to be. Thankfully, the drive didn’t take as long as before.

“Guy certainly has a thing for churches,” Dean muttered as they slowed to a stop. 

“Well he is an angel.”

“Yea, but I mean, talk about cliche.”

“He always was a bit dramatic,” Lily commented dryly as they parked a ways away. Sam and Dean, and Cas by extension, got out to assemble their weapons. Rowena and Lily, their weapon in their power, stood off to the side, surveying the area. 

The plan was for Rowena, Sam, and Lily to sneak in, catch Ishim off guard, and surround him, giving Lily the opportunity to go in for the fatal attack. Rowena had cast a quick spell on each of them to cloak their energy and Lily had used the grace she had obtained over the past hundred years to make sure Ishim wouldn’t be able to escape. It was a good plan, considering how impulsive the boys’ plans usually were, but Cas still found himself nervous.

Maybe it was because he knew that the plan rested solely on the shoulders of the others, and not on him. He would have no use in the fight that was about to take place. With Ishim having a semblance of control over his grace and being locked in place by the leash itself, there wasn’t much he really could do. Though they would be there for backup and support, him and Dean would just be bodies to surround him, nothing more than that. 

Rowena went in first, enchanting the area as she went. The others followed shortly after. Dean and Cas went around to the back where the disregarded cemetery lay, waiting for the signal to move. 

It was disquieting. The cemetery was well taken care of, with fresh flowers on many of the grave stones, and tools leaning against the gardening shed that lay off to the side, masked by the leaves of orange trees. Yet, there was something about the atmosphere that warned of emptiness, and Castiel had a sinking feeling that Ishim had done his part to make sure that the church he had selected as his sanctuary would not be disturbed by any humans. 

Cas had his angel blade at the ready, confident that if Ishim came at him he could guard just as good with his left as he would have with his right, though he had adapted Jimmy’s dominant hand. Dean had a stern grip on another angel blade, his knuckles white from the force he held it. 

Then an explosion sounded off from inside, the result of Rowena’s spell. They rushed through the back entrance, blades raised in defense. Light cascaded through the stained glass window. Ishim was near the pulpit, trapped within a tight circle of flaming holy oil. 

He glared with an irritated smirk at those that surrounded him, until that handed stare landed on Lily and stayed. “Still after your revenge?” He asked with a tone, though it was hard and stoic, was clearly mocking. For her part, Lily gave no retort, unwilling to let him rile her up in case it distracted her from the plan of attack. Seeming to realize this, Ishim directed his attention to the target he believed would be easier to manipulate into reaction. Cas. “Not enjoying the gift I gave you? Shame.”

Cas wanted to respond, to once again inform his brother why this hadn’t been seen as a gift at all, but he too managed to reign in his self-control and not react. Best to let Lily set about her revenge and end the curse that had chained Dean to him. 

It was unnerving though, the way Ishim kept his confident structure and subtle smirk, even as Lily moved in for the kill. Blinding white light began to seep from Lily’s pores, forcing the humans to shield their eyes. She raised her palm just as Cas had seen her do before, and the light gathered. 

Just then, the cathedral shook so hard the boys swayed from a loss of balance. Cas had to reach out for Dean’s arm to hold him steady so his fall didn’t send them both to the ground. A high pitch cry sounded throughout the hall causing the windows to crack under the pressure. Dean and Sam covered their ears in agony as Cas, Lily and Ishim stood still in attention. Rowena, it would appear, had disappeared the second trouble had arrived. 

“What’s going on?” Dean yelled through the noise. 

“Angels,” was all Cas could really respond, his jaw set in an irritated grimace, not understanding what was going on. Lily was pissed. 

Only Ishim appeared unperturbed.

And why wouldn’t he be, when the next thing everyone knew the holy fire that had entrapped Ishim died out, allowing the arrogant angel to step out of the circle. The shrill sounds that rang through the cathedral didn’t cease until he was out of sight. 

“What the hell?” Dean was still shouting, the ringing in his ears most likely leaving an echoing residue. 

Through gritted teeth, Cas gave his best answer from what he had gained from listening to his brothers’ true voices. “Apparently the angels in Heaven have decided that Ishim deserves to be paradoxes and welcomed back home.” 

“And you just let them have their way?”

Cas scowled at Dean even as Ishim reached their brothers’ side - Caleb, Ukabel and Valham. “What exactly would you have me do?” He wondered with a bite, tugging on his end of the chain. 

For a long, hard second Dean starred, but then his frustrated gaze moved to Lily. “And what’s your excuse?”

With little emotion, she replied, “I would have had to pull more power from the grace I had collected.”

“And?” 

“Dean,” Sam interrupted in chastisement. The brothers shared a look of silent communication before Dean settled down, mumbling under his breath that he understood. 

“Under the command of Heaven,” Caleb was repeating what he had announced in Enochian now in English for the benefit of the Winchesters, “Ishim is to be released into our custody. Any act to go against these commands will be seen as an act of rebellion and will therefore reap the consequences.”

Cas frowned at Caleb’s supposed leadership, having known for him to take a high ranking position. All three angels, in fact, had once been viewed by their brothers and sisters as being cannon fodder, foot soldiers that could be easily replaced. When Cas had raged war against Raphael, they had hesitantly backed him up, tired of being treated as such but wary of disobeying orders. Cas had tried to make them understand that they had free will, and therefore had the right to deny the position that their “superiors” demanded they hold. It had been enough to engender their loyalty to him...at least for a time. 

That had been years ago. Since then they had come to the decisions that Castiel was no longer on Angel of the Lord, just like the angels that had tortured him and killed Hannah due to her friendship with him. 

“Yea, well we got a few things that we need from Ishim here, but we’ll give him back to you when we’re done,” Dean practically growled. 

Caleb’s gaze went from Cas to the hunter, his demeanor cold and Judgemental, which wasn’t all like the Caleb Cas had remembered. He steeled himself for what would transpire next. 

“I see someone’s finally put you in your rightful place Winchester.” Dean’s cheeks, ears, and neck beat red and his grip tightened even more painfully around the hilt of the angel blade. Cold eyes turned to Cas. “Maybe you’re finally realizing the path you should be on, brother.”

At that, Cas’s own grip tightened around the angel blade he held onto, though unlike Dean and Lily, he had absolutely no desire to kill any more of his brothers. He didn’t even want to kill Ishim, but in the end his death would be what he brought upon himself; these angels would be another loss caused by Castiel. 

“This was caused by Ishim,” Cas explained with stone in his graveled voice, “and is something he needs to fix. Or otherwise we request a sample of blood and grace to fix it ourselves.” Lily glowered at the suggestion, but didn’t refute what he said. 

Beside Caleb, Ukabel and Valham glanced sideways at one another with smirks that matched Ishim’s while Caleb responded bitterly, “Fix what exactly? From what I can see, everything is in its rightful place.” Have gave a hateful glance towards Dean. 

Before Dean had the chance to raise himself from his humiliation, Lily was stating with ice in her tone,” This angel killed my daughter, and he will pay.” Her grace began to seep from her entire being in warning. “And unless you stand back to allow me my justice, you too shall pay.”

It was clear from the way their grace behaved that Caleb and his followers were nervous by her power, such an unnatural source of power. Yet Caleb managed to say, “A nephilim.”

“A human.”

Cas wasn’t sure whether Caleb believed her or not, or if he just didn’t care (which could be likely, though Cas had once known them to be angels of justice) for he simply stated that Ishim only be released to them, for Heaven was to deal out all punishments for its angels. 

“Like Hell,” Dean spat, stepping out just as far as the leash would allow him, trying to act like the frightening hunter he truly was despite knowing that everyone but Sam could see the chains that could him. “You can’t seriously think he deserved to be pardoned for what he did, killing an innocent child.”

Caleb raged at Dean’s rage. “Castiel, please control your pet so we may handle this civility.” 

Cas had no intention of telling Dean to do anything, but he also wasn’t too inclined to encourage Dean’s rage. Speaking above Dean’s grumble, Cas explained again, “You know well enough, brother, that Ishim has disobeyed Heaven’s law.” He looked uneasy, but not necessarily the look of someone willing to back down. “All I ask is…”

“As have you Castiel,” Valham finally spoke out. “More so, in fact.”

At that, Caleb stepped forward, an angel blade appearing into his hand. Ukabel and Valham followed suit. 

Still wanting to solve this as peacefully as possible, though there was a part of him that knew it wouldn’t be possible, Cas continued to speak while also stepping beside Dean. Lily, however, was under no such hopes or delusions and released her power. The three angels were flung back, landing unceremoniously into the last row of the pew, leaving Ishim standing by himself. She sprung forward, palm lit in grace, reaching out for the ever arrogant angel. 

After that...Cas wasn’t able to be much aware of anything. There was was a high shrill and the blinding light of grace that didn’t just attack Ishim, but invaded the entire space of the cathedral. All he knew was that one second Lily was taking charge of the situation, and the next second a burst of energy threw him and Dean onto the steps of the pulpit. 

He tried to stand, hearing the fight that was taking place but not able to see it because a rather large hunter was in his face. But he couldn’t disentangle himself from the mess of limbs and chains. Caleb was shouting in Enochian, blades were meeting blades, Sam was saying something indecipherable, and Dean was cursing in his ears as he too struggled to pulled away from the angel. 

It was infuriating to be so useless in a fight, a sentiment he knew was shared by the rage-filled hunter on top of him. 

By the time Dean was able to slide off to the side of Cas so they could both stand without choking the hunter, the fight had settled. Not only settled, Cas realized upon looking around, but disappeared. In fact, everyone had disappeared. 

Beside him, Cas could feel Dean’s impending panic, could hear the human’s heart heart faster in fear of what had happened to his little brother while he lay useless on the steps. Cas was about to lay his hand upon the hunter’s shoulder to reassure him, though he couldn’t help but feel panic start to spread throughout his chest, but stopped himself just short. 

“What the hell?” Dean was gathering his fear and panic into anger, his entire body tensing in rage and desire to make whoever had done this bled. “What happened? Where are they? Where’s Sam?”

Seconds became minutes. The panic palpable. 

Just then, Dean’s phone began to ring. “Sam?” A relieved pause. “What the hell happened?” Another pause, this time with an annoyed expression. Cas was sure that was Rowena on the other end of the line now. “Well that good at least. What about Lily?” Cas watched and waited. “Okay, yea, alright. See you later.”

“Sam and Lily are okay?”

“Yea,” Dean sighed, his muscles relaxing physically. “They’re back at the bunker, courtesy of Rowena. The spell must not have worked on us because of the leash.” He looked around the church with a sneer. “No clue what happened to the other angels though.” 

“We can assume they have Ishim,” Cas commented dryly and dejectedly, already thinking how how brothers and sisters would respond to him and Dean if they were to show up at Heaven’s doorstep and request Ishim’s blood and grace. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean gritted. “At least not for us, though I bet Lily’s pissed. She was able to get what we needed before Rowena pulled them away. Got to admit, she’s good. Rowena is working on the spell now.” The victory smile was small, but it was something. “So all we have to do now is wait.”

“Here?” Cas wondered.

Dean shrugged, and though Cas couldn’t see the leash move, he felt the slightest movement on his wrist. “As good as any I suppose. Plus, probably not a good idea to be driving Baby like this.”

That decided, they awkwardly set on the steps that they had only moments before wrestled to stand from. Silence lapsed between them.


	17. Chapter 17

The church was peaceful now that the chaos has ended, and now that Ishim was no longer present, Cas no longer felt the unease he has sensed earlier about the place. 

Looking around, Cas could see why Ishim had chosen this to be his sanctuary. It had an old fashion beauty to it, aged with grace and delicacy. The colorful stained glass windows were especially alluring as the sun’s light turned red, blue, green, and purple as it touched the polished floors. 

Dean was sitting beside him on the steps of the pulpit - he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. He had his knees bent, one of the them touching Cas’s leg, with his elbows balanced upon them, chin resting on intertwined knuckles. His eyes were closed shot and jaws set, which was usually the signs of anger, but Cas didn’t think that was the case this time. If anything, Dean appeared to be in deep thought, trying to formulate a plan or make sense of something confusing and complicated. 

A part of Cas wanted to inquire into Dean’s thoughts. For one, he was curious. Second, the silence had his grace on edge, something that was much too common these last few days. Another part of him, however, was too cautious to ask of the hunter’s thoughts. With the leash, invisible as it was, still securely clasped onto their wrist and neck, Cas was not taking the chance of what may come out of Dean’s mouth. 

Then, seeming to some sort of epiphany, bottle glass green eyes open and stared straight into Cas’s bright blue ones. Cas stared back, wanting to hear whatever it was that Dean had come to a conclusion to. “Tell me to tell you the truth.”

“What?”

Dean grinned as if his idea was brilliant, though Cas didn’t quite understand. “Tell me to tell you the truth.”

“Dean, I don’t…”

“Because if you tell me to tell you the truth, you’ll know I’m not lying, or that what I say is just because of the stupid leash. It’ll be because it’s the truth.”

Blue eyes squinted suspiciously at the odd request. Odd especially because it was coming from Dean who had something against speaking about feelings and the truth.

When Cas didn’t respond immediately, Dean’s face turned an alluring shade of light red as he tried to explain. “I know if I do anything or say anything without this proof, you’ll convince yourself that it’s the curse. I’d do the same. But if you give the order that I have to tell you the truth, then you know for a fact that’s what you’re going to hear. Then I can say what I need to say,” his face was getting redder. “What I need you to hear.”

Cas still thought it a suspicious request, but there was a shy sincerity about the hunter that usually wasn’t allowed to be seen, and there was little the angel could do but go through with what Dean wanted. “Dean, please tell me the truth about whatever has been on your mind.” Despite the fact that Cas wanted to know what he had to say, Cas’s voice was nervous as he made the polite command, and then waited anxiously for the answer. 

It took a moment for Dean to provide an answer, opening his mouth only to close it with blush marking his cheeks again. “I, uh, I wasn’t lying before. About just wanting you to say with us more,” there seemed to be something stuck in his throat as he coughed and then backtracked, “to stay with me.” Cas made no move to speak, and Dean awkwardly continued, “And the, uh, the other stuff that happened...you know, afterwards, I mean, it was, it caught me off guard at first, but I, I did,” he waved his hand in a nonsensible motion, “um, you know.”

Usually when Dean got like this Cas was bemused. This time, however, it displayed the same type of anxiety that Cas was feeling, and so he did nothing. It was also confusing, having to try and follow Dean’s train of thought in between the stuttering, the breaks, and the vague wording. 

Dean looked to him imploring. Cas shook his head. “No, I don’t know.” 

With a bowed head and an embarrassed, dejected sigh. Dean tried again, “What we were doing,” a darker blush, “on my bed...it was, it was good...enjoyable.”

“I did not initiate that contact just to be enjoyable.”

“Yea, I, uh, I got that.” Dean’s legs were bouncing, and he could tell that the human was tempted to pace the church as they had this conversation, but the leash kept him by Cas’s side. When Dean realized, though, that Cas required more than just that, he forced himself to give a proper response. Or at least as proper of a response as Dean Winchester was capable of giving. “Me too.”

Cas fought back a smile, the anxiety finally beginning to subside. “You too?”

Dean couldn’t stop blushing, but now that he had said what needed to be said and had been understood, he seemed a bit more comfortable. Comfortable enough, in fact, to say, “Yea, so you know, if you wanted to do it again, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

It was a tempting offer. If not for the invisible chain that tied them together and made Dean susceptible to every command he gave, Cas would have complied without any further thought. As it was, he was rooted to the spot, staring into gorgeous green eyes.

Seeing his hesitation, Dean decided to make the move. He leaned closer into Cas’s space, pausing a breath away from the angel’s lips, before gently pressing his own against them. Once Dean’s lip were pressed against his, Cas lost any control he had over his desires for them to say separated until Lily and Rowena got rid of the curse. He was at Dean’s mercy.

He was surprised when Dean gave a low moan when he kissed back, but it gave him the courage to deepen the kiss. Hesitantly, Cas reached to lightly grasp onto Dean’s arms, holding them steady. Except, Dean obviously didn’t care about staying steady and Cas fell backwards onto the pulpit. 

Cas fell onto his back with Dean on top of him for the second time that day, he felt the rumble of Dean’s chest. Speaking into the kiss the now confident hunter joked, “You know I’ve surprisingly never done anything like this in a church before.”

“Yes,” Cas replied dryly, “surprising.” Dean laughed again into the kiss at the tone, kissing him as an apology. 

It was a sudden change of mood and behavior, but Cas decided he liked this part of Dean — playful. He had seen it before, but only for second, and never quite this close. 

After a time, both fully enjoying the sensations, Dean pulled back for air. Unfortunately, he tried to sit back in his attempt to catch his breath, and with Cas still flat on his back, the chain choked him forwards. Dean caught himself with his hands on either side of Cas’s head. 

Cas frowned in concern, their intimate moment gone. “Dean? Are you alright?”

“Yea,” Dean sighed in annoyance. “I forgot about it.” He tugged at the invisible chain in irritation. “Really hoped that they’d be done by now.”

Carefully, Cas sat up, moving the leash so it hung between them loosely. “Complicated spells tend to take more time to complete.”

“Right,” Dean trailed off before looking into Cas’s eyes shyly. The loss of the moment had knocked his confidence back down. “So, um, care to try again?”

Cas smiled softly, but didn’t make any move to initiate the continuation of their kissing. “Maybe we should just wait until the curse is lifted?”

The hunter pouted. “What are we supposed to do until then?”

A part of Cas wanted to be insulted that Dean would treat their intimacy as a simple way to pass the boredom, but he figured he could give him the benefit of the doubt at the moment. Dean had gone through a lot as of late, afterall.

There was a brief pause between them, and then Cas became serious as to question, “If you are okay with this, why were you ‘freaking’ out the other times?” The chain jingled as he moved his hand to make the air quotes. 

For a second Dean became stiff, and Cas regretted bringing it up, but then the hunter was pushing his issues away to shrug. “Caught off guard I guess. Just like I said before.”

It was clear that wasn’t all there had been, and that Dean knew the reason for his panic. Cas just stared, waiting to either be told the reason or to remain until the leash disappeared. 

Moment passed awkwardly. Dean scratched the back of his neck self-consciously. Then, when all Cas kept doing was staring, he sighed dramatically. “This really isn’t an ideal situation, you know?”

Cas’s voice was soft and understanding as he replied, “Yes, I know.”

For long minutes in which Dean thrummed with desire and Cas kept himself from allowing any further physical intimacy, Cas also debated with himself on whether he should prompt Dean into truly answering his latest question. There was a new insecurity and vulnerability about the hunter that Cas had always known there to be, but that Dean had never wanted to admit. Not until it was too much, and too late. 

Just then, the weight of the chain lifted, and Dean’s cell phone was vibrating in his pocket. 

“They’re off,” Dean grinned in relief at his brother on the other end. Sam was saying something, and Dean responded, “Yea, okay. Tell Lily thanks for me. See you tomorrow.”

Now free from the leash, Dean stood without worry, creating distance between them immediately. Cas stood as well at a much slower pace, hiding the slight hurt he was beginning to feel in his stoic expression. The hurt that came from being unable to stop the fear that now that the leash no longer tied them together, Dean would want to get as far away from him as possible. That Dean, in his freedom, would want to put distance between himself and the feelings and horrible truth he had been forced to admit while being a “pet”.

But then Dean was facing him, the phone tucked away, and his grin still in place. “What do you saw we ditch this place and get to a hotel?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Maybe pick up where we left out?”


	18. Chapter 18

The air around them was charged with an energy that Cas had noticed a few times before, but never to this extent, and never with the promise of it actually becoming something more palpable. Dean parked the impala at a nicer motel than the kind he and his brother tended to stay in. According to the sign in the front, it even served free breakfast. Dean gave Cas the instruction to stay with the car while he paid for the room. He was back a minute later, keycard in hand, and a grin playing at the corner of his lips.

The moment they entered the room and the door was locked behind them, Cas was assaulted with a passionate, eager kiss. Warm, calloused hands gently gripped his hips. “”And you’re sure this is what you want?” Dean whispered into the kiss. 

If this hadn’t been such a long awaited moment, Cas would have sighed at his human’s continued sense of lack of self-worth. As it was, he replied lowly, “Of course. I have wanted you for many years.”

 

Soft laughter was breathed into him. “Years, huh? You know, I always thought you were too duty bound to want me.” There was a small break in the hoy that Cas barely noticed. A subtle, sad tone. “I mean, it’s against the rules, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Cas admitted the truth of what he had told them when first meeting Ishim. “But it’s not enforced unless a nephilim is born.” The kisses had returned with their original vigor. “And you have always been the one being to make me understand that duty is not always the most important thing.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Cas’s own hands found their way to Dean’s hips. “I was not lying when I told Ishim that my life has been better for knowing you.” Before Dean could argue, he explained in soft, graveled murmurs, “For centuries I was just existing. With you, I am living.” 

There was a tension in the hunter’s muscles that made it clear that he didn’t necessarily believe he had been a positive aspect in Cas’s life, but he didn’t argue the sentiment, which Cas was going to take as him making progress. 

They continued their kissing and holding awhile longer - Cas had lost track of any semblance of time. Then, in between the gentle pecks to his lips, the soft nips, and the whiskey tasting tongue that slipped past, Cas could feel skilled fingers begin to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. Soon enough the tie and overshirt were tossed to the floor. The moment they were discarded, Cas felt warm fingers caress the skin just above his pants before taking hold of the shirt.

The cool breeze of the motel room hit his vessel’s chest. The change of temperature at his vessel’s nipples hardening. When Dean glided his hand to that particular area, giving a simple, gentle twist to each, Cas let out a pleasurable moan. In response, Dean grinned against his lips before moving down to suck at the juncture of his neck. Cas’s moans got louder.

When hands went lower, though, and began to play at the button of his pants, that Cas had to put a stop to Dean’s action. He stepped away from the hunter’s grasp, smiling at the way pupil-blown eyes stared at him in question. Then he took the opportunity to begin undressing the man before him. 

With only one night and fantasies to go by, Cas did his best to mimic Dean’s actions. The plaid shirt was tossed carelessly on the floor, and he reverently touched the strong muscles of his chest, twerked hardening nipples, and admired the softness of his stomach. What he was doing was obviously the right thing to do, because almost immediately, Dean’s own moans were sounding off throughout the room, and his fingers were stuttering their movements. 

“I think this is usually where people up on the bed,” Cas commented against the hunter’s skin. 

“Hmm. I think you’re right.”

Yet, despite their agreement, neither one moved to the mattress. Both seemed to be waiting for the other to take the lead. 

The pause confused Cas. He had been sure that Dean would take charge of the entire situation, as he had taken the lead with the kiss. Now that the leash was gone, Dean would most likely feel the need to show that he was not as submissive as Ishim had tried to make him. Repressed and still too empowered by the unrealistic expectations of what it meant to be a ‘real man’, Dean would need to prove to himself that he was still the man in charge. It was, after all, Dean’s typical move, and Cas had been prepared to let his human be the dominant one in their moment of intimacy. 

Still, the hunter was not making his next move.

Cautious, but wanting things between them to go further, Cas brought his hands to the top of Dean’s jeans, briefly playing with the skin that lay above the material. Then he slowly moved on to unbotton the jeans that had tightened gorgeously. When he took his time to unzip the hunter’s pants and Dean moaned erotically, Cas took that to mean he was being granted the pleasure of taking charge...at least for the time being. 

Even with the silent permission to do so, though, Cas was deliberate in his movements. He slipped his fingers into the waistband, waiting just a second before beginning to drag the jeans down. He was on his knees, helping Dean step out of them, so that a promising bulge was in front of his face. It was a sight that obviously pleased Dean as the bulge jumped excitedly and the hunter groaned.

“What would you like me to do?” Cas asked. As close as Dean’s thinly clothed erection was to his face, Cas was sure what the answer would be, and he was ready to do as the man wanted. 

Surprisingly, all Dean replied with was a throaty, “Whatever you want.”

It was a tempting offer, but after the days they had just gone through, it wasn’t an offer the angel was willing to take lightly. He held onto the soft part of Dean’s body just above his hips, looking up into dark green eyes. “I’d be willing to do anything,” his voice was baritone and suggestive. 

A flush erupted across Dean’s cheeks, ears, neck, and the top of his chest. The suggestion was clearly understood, and Cas readied himself to follow through with his plan, nervous only because he had never done anything close to it before. He was just about to take off Dean’s boxers when calloused hands stopped him. 

“Dean?”

Fingers wrapped around his and pulled him to his feet. “We can do that another time.” The hunter’s voice was rough and cracked. “Tonight we can, just, uh…” A blush was painting ruggish cheeks even darker than before. He lowered his head as if trying to find the right words. To Cas’s disappointment, that wasn’t the only thing about Dean that was lowering. Dean took a hold of Cas’s elbow and led him to the edge of the bed. “Let’s talk for a moment.”

Cas frowned. “You never want to talk.” And as much as Cas would want to talk any other time, even back at the church, to talk now didn’t seem like it would lead to anything good. Already, Dean’s erection was getting softer, and Cas was beginning to follow suit. 

“Well, call this once in a million,” Dean sighed, preparing himself to say whatever he needed to. Cas knew he should be happy that Dean was trying to open up more, but he had been in the moment and didn’t want to see it gone like it had done on the bed in the bunker or in the church. “I, uh…” he breathed out harshly, getting his bearings. Cas waited patiently, forcing himself to not become frustrated. “I liked it when you took control.”

The words were rushed and said practically under his breath, but Cas heard. Still…”What?”

Slower this time, and a bit more stable, Dean explained, “I’m not your pet.”

Frowning, Cas stated evenly, “I understand that.”

 

“Right, Well, with that understood, I like you being in control. You showing off your strength and power...it always sort of turned me on.”

“So you want me to be the dominant one in the relationship?”

“If you’re up for it,” Dean winked, forcing himself to ease back into the mood.

That was enough for Cas to get back into the mood, and even more confident than when he started. He tackled Dean onto his back and straddled him, pressing his jeaned erection to the soft material of boxers where Dean’s interest was getting up too. 

“But just so we understand one another, this whole dominant thing is just for the bedroom.”

“Or anywhere else we may have sex,” Cas amended.

“Yea, yea…” The hunter agreed with a chuckle. “Now, you going to get rid of those pants?”

The angel smirked. “I believe you have given up that right.”

A challenging smirk was given in response, but Cas could sense that the hunter’s body was becoming pliant under his tough. “Do your best,” he smiled against Cas’s fevernt kiss. 

“I’ll certainly try.”


End file.
